Fool in the Rain
by jscribes
Summary: Oh no, I suck at these! The boys wind up in Salem, MA on their way to Gloucester. To quote Sam, "Salem? This is a joke, right?" Nope! Rebecca Nourse's family has been in Salem for generations...all the way back to the witch trials. This is my first fic, so please be gentle. I probably screwed up canon left and right!
1. Chapter 1

Rebecca Nourse sat up in bed, gasping for air.

She'd had the dream again. The one where someone pressing onto her chest, trying to kill her.

With a sigh, she glanced over at her clock. It was 5 AM. The birds were chirping outside her window.

Throwing back the covers, she got up out of bed and padded into the bathroom.

Might as well stay up. After all, it was her day off.

* * *

Becca put her hands on her hips, glaring at the lawnmower. Her bicep was beginning to hurt from pulling on the starter. It was personal now.

"GUARANTEED TO START" was written across the lawnmower in happy block letters.

"Bullshit," she snorted, yanking the string again.

Nothing happened.

She sniffed, wiping her forehead with her arm.

Her lawn was in desperate shape. Her flower beds had died again. The grass was all dried up….again. She was sick of looking at it. It was all getting mowed _again_. Today.

* * *

"Salem? This is a joke, right?" Sam asked his brother as they approached the city limit sign.

"Just passin' through, Sammy," Dean assured him. They'd been driving all night, hoping to make it out to Gloucester before the sun came up. The trek had taken longer than Dean had anticipated. But if his memory served him correctly, entering Salem meant that they were about an hour away from Gloucester.

"Tell me again what's in Gloucester."

"There's been these weird reports of deaths of lobsters," Sam replied, flipping over the newspaper.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "Damn. Things _have_ been slow lately, haven't they?"

He turned down a side street, thinking it would be a shortcut to get to 128.

It was a cul-de-sac. In a residential neighborhood.

"We're lost."

"Now hold on a minute," Dean held up his hand. "I just need to think."

"Maybe you should go back to the rotary or something."

"That was miles back. I'll just turn around down here and get back on the other road."

As the Impala reached the cul-de-sac, Sam and Dean saw a curvaceous blonde in a pair of cut off shorts out in her front yard, fussing over her lawnmower.

"Well hello…" Dean let out a whistle.

"It's 6 o'clock in the morning. What is she doing? God, this place is so beyond weird." Sam rolled his eyes. He hated Salem with a passion. It was like a carnival side show, bastardizing a tragic moment in history. And cashing in on it.

Dean pulled up to the curb and shut the car off.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna give the little lady a hand," he replied, as if the answer were obvious.

Sam reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was tired, hungry, and cranky. And he desperately wanted a shower. He'd hoped that they would arrive in Gloucester with enough time to check into a hotel before they began snooping around.

As his brother hopped out of the car, Sam knew that a nice, hot shower and mysterious lobsters were going to have to wait.

Becca looked up as a big black car came to a stop in front of her driveway. She glanced over the top of her sunglasses. There were two men inside. They were obviously lost.

She smiled as the door opened and one of them got out.

"Morning."

"Good morning. The museum doesn't open until 10."

Dean couldn't hide his smile. Of course she would assume they were tourists.

"No, we're just passing through. Took a wrong turn trying to get to 128. I stopped because….well, it looks like you could use some help."

He saw her eyebrows go up from behind her purple Wayfarers. "Wow, thank you." She stepped back from the lawnmower, gesturing towards it. "Be my guest."

Becca watched, impressed, as the ridiculously handsome stranger tugged on the string. He made it look effortless. The lawnmower rumbled to life.

Sam slapped his hand to his face when he saw Dean begin to push the lawnmower across the yard.

"What are you doing?" Becca yelled. She looked at the other man in the car, thoroughly confused.

She stood there, watching a complete stranger mow her lawn. She blinked a few times, before heading over to the car. She leaned down in front of the driver's side window and gave the man in the passenger seat a little wave. "Hi."

"Hey." He looked like a little puppy stuck in a cage.

"My name is Rebecca… Becca Nourse." Becca almost wanted to put her hands on her knees and try to sweetly coax him out of the car.

Why was that name familiar to Sam?

"Sam Winchester. And that's, uh, that's Dean cutting your grass there. Apparently."

She laughed, her nose wrinkling up. Given her young, innocent looking face, Sam would have pegged Rebecca for maybe 16 or 17 years old. However, her chest, thighs and hips definitely told him otherwise. She wore a Cat Stevens "Peace Train" t-shirt with her cutoff denim shorts. Her long, blonde hair was messy and unbrushed around her face.

"You won't be able to stop him," Sam told her.

"Why don't you get out of the car and come on inside. Let me make you guys breakfast or something. It's the least I could do." From the looks of their license plate, they were far from home.

Sam's stomach roared happily. "Got any coffee?"

"You're in New England, Sam." Becca grinned. "You know I've got coffee."

That was all he needed to hear. Sam hopped out of the car, following her into the house.

The lobsters would definitely have to wait.


	2. Chapter 2

The house was Victorian in every way. And old. And…purple. The exterior was a light lavender color, with dark greyish purple accents.

Sam couldn't help but look around as they entered the house. His nose picked up the subtle scent of patchouli and sandalwood.

"You can take off your shoes, but only if you want. No pressure."

"Sure."

"It makes everyone feel at home and comfortable. And puts us all on the same level." She turned and eyed Sam. He towered over her. "Well, more or less." Her musical laughter echoed throughout the house.

"1880. Been in the family for years," Rebecca told him as he followed her into the kitchen. "You're welcome to look around if you want, no worries. Make yourself at home. I'm just gonna start breakfast."

"Hey, thanks."

The house was huge. The energy was faint and not as ominous as he expected it to be, especially for a place like Salem. He made his walk around the first floor brief and quiet. Although she'd stuck true to the Victorian aspects of the house, there were little personal touches throughout. Scented candles on pillars, tapestries on the walls. Houseplants and herbs were in pots throughout the house.

Her voice came from the doorway. "Come on. You're shredding cheese. If your boyfriend's gonna work, so are you."

"Dean's my brother," he said for perhaps the thousandth time in his life.

"Oh, my apologies, dude." Sam could tell she meant it.

"Don't worry about it. So is everyone else asleep?" He asked as they went back into the kitchen.

"It's just me here, Sam," she replied, tapping one last light blue egg on the counter. She plopped it into the skillet with the others.

Sam grated the cheese thoughtfully. "So…Rebecca Nourse. Why is that familiar?"

"Because Rebecca Nurse was my great-something-something-grandmother. Nourse was the original last name. It just kind of evolved back into it over the years. Probably a good thing, I guess, because of the baggage the Nurse name carried."

Witchcraft, of course.

The front door open and Dean stepped inside, taking the place in. He'd known the girl was a hippie type from the second he'd set eyes on her. And the Grateful Dead bear nestled on the Victorian style couch pillow definitely confirmed his suspicions.

He heard her and Sam talking in the kitchen.

"Hope you don't mind, I let myself in."

"Of course not. Are you done already?"

Dean nodded, sitting on a stool at the bar. "Your yard is pretty small. Oh, and I put the lawnmower and gas can back in the shed."

Rebecca was impressed yet again. "Thanks, Dean. I'm Becca."

"Rebecca Nourse," Sam told his brother pointedly.

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "Like the sweet little old lady that hung for witchcraft?" As Becca turned back to the skillet, his eyes slid down her body. Her ample thighs peeked out at them from underneath the cutoffs.

Sam shot his brother a look. Dean made a face and shrugged.

_STOP._ Sam mouthed.

But he couldn't resist stealing a glance himself. Well, at least this hippie shaved her legs.

"That's the one," she responded. "So tell me, why are you two heading to Gloucester?" She began to divvy up the cheese eggs onto 2 plates. Her own plate had only toast.

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"Uh…lobsters," Sam answered lamely, clearing his throat.

Becca looked up at them. "Lobsters."

The two brothers nodded in unison.

"Oh, okay…Well…I'd recommend the Gloucester House." She opened the fridge, grabbing out a carton of soy milk. "It's pretty much right on the water. And you can't forget to go to the fishermen's memorial. It's beautiful. There's also a water tour thing too, if you're into that. Maybe a whale watch."

Becca grabbed out two big, handmade clay mugs and filled them with coffee. She set the soy milk down on the bar.

"Do you have….real milk?" Dean asked.

Becca thought for a minute and looked back in the fridge. She pulled out a tiny glass bottle with a "RAW MILK" sticker on it. "Here ya go."

"Thanks."

Dean looked down at his plate. Eggs and whole grain toast with vegan butter and homemade raspberry jam.

"Do you have any, you know, _meat_?"

Sam rolled his eyes. His brother was pushing his luck.

Becca smiled coolly, sitting across from him at the bar. "You're lucky you came on a day that I had dairy cheese and fresh eggs in my home."

"Understood."

Sam decided that he definitely liked Becca Nourse.

* * *

After breakfast, Sam and Dean cleaned up the kitchen.

"So do you guys need a place to crash?" Becca asked them. "I mean, I have couch surfers come through here from time to time."

Her openness was really refreshing. Dean decided to let Sam make the decision. He was genuinely surprised at his baby brother's reply.

"I could use a shower. And I'm exhausted. We'd really appreciate it, Becca. But don't worry. We won't wear out our welcome."

"It's not a problem. Make yourselves at home. Stay as long as you like. Enjoy your journey. The lobsters will still be there."

And so that's how Dean found himself in her shower. She'd given him a brand new toothbrush, a fresh washcloth and towel and told him make himself at home.

He used her Trader Joe's shampoo. It wasn't too bad. Dean made a face as he picked up the white bar of Ivory soap. He sniffed it. The lemony smell tingled his nostrils. With a sigh, he lathered up the washcloth and told himself that beggars shouldn't be choosers.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean heard the instantly recognizable voice of Dave Matthews as he stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist.

_Baby you know I'm all about you__  
__and all I want to do __is take a little ride__  
__Maybe get inside_

He went to the door and opened it just a crack. He could see Becca across the hall in the study.

She was re-arranging books on the shelf, standing on her tiptoes. Her reading glasses hung from a beaded chain around her neck. As she turned, those sweet, tanned thighs peeked out at him again.

_I can still taste you  
I won't wash my hands __  
__Red is the color of the sun with my eyes closed _

_I can still taste you  
And I will again_

Dean blinked in confusion and looked down. He was standing at attention. Oh for fuck's sake.

_Woman please please  
I'm in your possession  
Wanna drink it wanna drink it  
Let me go let me go  
Down down down down  
Dark little place she lets me go_

He shut the bathroom door, and bumped his forehead against it in frustration.

* * *

With every ounce of resolve he had, Dean got dressed and entered the study.

Becca grabbed the remote and turned down the iPod. "Oh hey! Sorry."

"No problem. I like it loud."

She turned it back up. The music shuffled and "Black Dog" by Zeppelin began to play.

He plopped down on the couch. "Where's Sam?"

"He's in the other bathroom downstairs."

_Child, way you shake that thing  
Gonna make you burn, gonna make you sting._

Dean swallowed as Becca bent over, moving a few books around.

_Hey, hey, baby, when you walk that way  
Watch your honey drip, can't keep away._

"Could you uh, turn that off, please?" Dean scratched his head. "I dunno, I'm not really in the mood to get the Led out today."

"Yeah, dude, no worries." Becca pushed the mute button before pleasantly turning back to the bookshelf.

Comfortable silence stretched out between them.

But Dean didn't like it.

"So…" He rubbed his clammy palms on the thighs of his jeans. "What's with all the books?"

"I'm a librarian," she responded without turning around.

"Ah. That would explain it." He chuckled.

"Yeah, I work at the library here in Salem."

"Do you need some help?"

Becca turned back to him, her eyes shining from behind her glasses. "I thought you'd never ask!"

She immediately put him to work. He removed book after book from the shelves and stacked them in even piles. Then she wanted him to divide the books up by subject, and then in ABC order by title.

Dean was sitting on the floor, columns of books surrounding him, when Sam came into the study.

"Hey Sammy, like my fort?"

"What're you guys doing?"

"We're re-organizing my collection," Becca responded, snapping a book shut with a smile. "I came up with a much better system."

"What did you have before?"

"I had them by author, and then in ABC order by title. Which was good for a few weeks…"

"_Weeks_?"

Becca nodded. "I think the new system will be better. Subject, then order by title. Or maybe subject, then by author, and then title? Could I do that?"

Sam thought it was adorable to see his brother sitting there helping her.

Then another idea came to her. "Actually, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go take a shower myself." She put the book on the shelf and made a swift exit.

They both watched her go.

"She's peculiar, ain't she?" Dean tilted his head. "I think I like her."

"She's not your type." Sam went over to a stack of books and picked up the top one.

"I know. She's a librarian."

"She is?"

Dean nodded.

"So yeah, _definitely_ not your type. But this could really help with our research, Dean." He put the book down on the coffee table and began rummaging through the piles. "Geez, she's got everything, doesn't she?"

Dean grabbed the stereo remote, turning the sound back up.

_But I tell ya, if I had the chance to do it all again  
I wouldn't change a stroke_

He wanted to throw the remote across the room. Well son of a bitch.

He and Sam definitely needed to get a hotel room.


	4. Chapter 4

The guys pulled into Becca's driveway. She was out in the yard in those damn cutoffs and an oversized Jerry Garcia t-shirt. She looked right at home there in the grass, wearing sunglasses and a floppy hat on her head, planting flowers.

"I thought you pulled all that stuff out," Sam told her as he got out of the car.

"I did, but I changed my mind. I decided to re-plant," Becca responded. "And you're just in time to help."

It was hot as hell outside, but she didn't seem to notice or care.

Becca Nourse did not play around when it came to gardening. She had them all over her yard, digging holes to place the new flowers in.

Their shirts were soaked with sweat. Dean peeled his off. Sam shot him a look.

"What? It's fucking hot."

Sam just rolled his eyes and went back to digging.

Finally, Becca stopped them. "Hey guys, I was thinking of grilling out tonight. Care to join me?"

* * *

Becca's idea of grilling out was a joke to Dean Winchester. A cruel, terrible joke.

There was no bacon cheeseburger for him.

A Gardenburger on a whole wheat bun. With balsamic vegetables in tin foil packets on the grill.

And lots of fucking salad.

"Wait. I got you guys something."

"Please be bacon, please be bacon…" Dean prayed.

Becca laughed and went over to open the cooler that was sitting by the grill.

"Ohhhh."

Well. This was much better than bacon.

It was beer. Beautiful, ice cold beer.

"I wasn't sure what to get so….I got a few kinds."

"We'll drink anything," Dean told her.

She handed them both one, grabbed one for herself, and sat down at the picnic table.

Dean twisted the cap off his beer and chunked it at Becca.

It hit her square in the forehead.

"Excuse me!" She tossed her cap at him.

Her throw was pathetic. He easily ducked out of the way, the cap sailing over his shoulder.

"What?"

Becca's cheeks turned pink and she rolled her eyes. "Be that way, Dean. You won't get any of the special brownies I made."

"Oh, I'll get brownies."

A cherry tomato hit her.

"Will you stop it?"

"That wasn't me. I swear."

Becca looked over at Sam, surprised. He blinked a few times, trying to look innocent.

"Sam."

"Yes, Becca."

"No brownies for you either."

"Well dammit."

* * *

When the sun went down, Becca lit her tiki torches and brought out the brownies.

They were delicious.

And full of marijuana.

"Hey Becca, what's in these brownies?" Sam asked her, his mouth full.

"What do you think is in the brownies, Sam?" Becca responded.

Dean snorted. "Oh shit."

He stood up to get them all another beer. Becca sat back in her chair, watching through heavy lids as he headed over to the cooler.

"You hangin' in there, Dean?"

"You bet, baby doll. You sure can hold your alcohol, can't you?"

"I can drink anybody under the table. But my limit is 3."

He opened a beer and handed it to her.

"Thank you." Her hand brushed his as she took the bottle.

He winked at her.

The two of them giggled.

"So, Becca…" Sam opened his beer. "Listen, there's some research that Dean and I would like to do…"

"Oh, dude, come to the library, we've got tons of stuff for you there," she offered. "I actually updated the microfilms and added a ton of shit last year. It's really great. You're both more than welcome anytime."

"Don't you want to know what we're looking for?" Sam asked.

Becca shrugged. "Who cares? The library is a public place, Sam. I mean, we pay for them with tax dollars, right? We should be able to just….go use it. No questions asked. It's there. Why not?" She reached for another brownie.

"Becca, why do you like libraries and stuff so much?" He wanted to know.

"Because. Human beings are the only animals that have, like, records. We have art and we have music and we have the written word. I love that we can physically hold something in our hands, especially if it's from a long time ago. And that things that were written way back when can still have an impact on today, too. Think about Mary Shelley's _Frankenstein_ or Shakespeare. Even Dr. Seuss. Oh, and walking into a library and smelling all those old books…" She sighed happily.

"Are we gonna have some deep philosophical stoner conversation now?" Dean spoke up.

They all snorted and giggled some more.

"This is a hell of a shindig, Becca," Dean said, downing another brownie.

"Hey, pace yourself, Winchester," Becca advised. "Those can stay with you for a day or so."

Dean stopped in mid chew. "Oh." He made a move to spit it out.

"No no, finish it!" Becca almost fell out of her chair from laughter.

Dean handed the other half of the brownie to Sam, who popped the entire thing into his mouth.

They sat out on her deck for hours, talking and laughing. Sam and Dean couldn't remember the last time they'd actually hung out with someone like this. It was definitely a welcome change of pace. Still, they caught themselves keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. Old habits die hard.

Finally, Sam stood up and stretched. "I guess we'd better be going."

"Uh, I dunno if that's a good idea, Sammy…" Dean wasn't sure if he could drive.

"Oh you guys know you're welcome to crash. Plenty of bedrooms here."

It was the best night's sleep Sam and Dean ever had.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean pulled the Impala into the library parking lot.

"Have we ever actually known a librarian?" Sam asked as he shut his door.

Dean shrugged.

A wooden sign hung in the lobby with "SHOES OPTIONAL" scripted across it. Underneath the sign was a shelf with shoe cubbies.

"Yep. This is definitely her place." Dean chuckled.

The brothers stowed their shoes and entered the library.

There was an elderly volunteer at the desk. "Good morning, can I help you?"

"We're looking for Rebecca Nourse."

The lady motioned with her thumb to a hallway behind her. "Her office is back there." She called over her shoulder down the hall. "Dr. Nourse, there are two gentlemen here for you."

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

_Doctor_? Sam mouthed.

Dean made a face. He was impressed.

"Thank you, Miss Helen. Guys, come on back!"

Giving a polite nod to the volunteer, Sam and Dean stepped behind the desk and headed down the hall.

Sam knocked on the open door frame of her office.

Her office was huge, just like her house. It was covered in wall-hangings, artwork, and her degrees. _Liberty Leading the People_ took up a large portion of one wall. Andy Warhol's interpretation of John Lennon was on the other. A first edition signed copy of "Where the Wild Things Are" hung in a shadow box on a single purple wall above her desk. And framed on her desk was her most prized possession: a signed first edition hardcover of her favorite book, "American Gods."

"Sweet Rebecca, dream dangerously. - Love Neil Gaiman"

Dean stuck his hands in his pockets. God she was such a nerd.

Becca took off her glasses, letting them dangle from her beaded necklace. She stood up, her faint scent of sandalwood filling the air.

"Hi! I'm so glad you're here. Listen, make yourselves at home." Her favorite line. "There's a water bubbler behind my door there, you're welcome to it. The water from the fountain tastes kind of funny. The back corner on the second floor is where the microfilms are. The dates go back pretty far, so you're probably all set on that. Uhm…what else…." Becca drummed her fingers against her lips, thinking.

She looked damn adorable standing there barefoot, in her pink paisley skirt and flowing black top. Her long hair was pulled halfway up into some weird braid.

"Oh and you can hang your coats in here, if you like." Becca gestured to a stand in the corner. "So yeah. All yours. Any questions for me?"

They both shook their heads. They were in research mode.

"Cool, just let me know if you need anything. Be free. And good luck with your search!" She sat down in her chair and spun back around to her computer screen.

* * *

Dean was wandering through the stacks when he heard Becca's voice reading aloud. He peered out from around the corner.

She was sitting in the children's section, cross-legged on the floor. Her toes stuck out from her the bottom of her skirt. A group of barefoot and sockfooted children formed around her, some sitting, some up on their knees close to her. A part of him immediately thought of Ben, but he dismissed it. One little girl even stood right beside her, a pudgy hand on Becca's shoulder. Kids had no sense of personal space. They were weirder than any of the other creatures Dean had ever encountered. He thought kids were like wildly drunken adults trapped in little bodies. They were all over Becca, but she didn't seem to notice or mind.

"Let her tell stories, and dance in the rain, somersault, tumble, and run; her joys must be high as her sorrows are deep; Let her grow like the weed in the sun."

He felt a tug in his chest as he stood there, watching her read to the children. It was something he hadn't sincerely felt in a long time. So long that he barely recognized it for what it was.

Dean Winchester had a crush on Dr. Rebecca Nourse.

* * *

The phone on her desk rang. The call came from one of the internal extensions.

It was Dean.

"You guys need help finding anything?"

"No. Uh…hey listen…what are you doing tonight?"

"Do you guys need more time in the library? I'll let you borrow a key...but why don't we talk in my office, Dean?"

How many times had Dean heard those words in his life?

The line went dead. Seconds later, he was propped in her doorway, arms folded across his chest.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm not doing anything. I can stay late if you guys want," Becca told him.

"Will you let me take you to dinner?"

"Like a date?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Me?" She couldn't believe it.

"You. And me too, of course." Dean's grin was far too charming. "Say yes."

"Yes."

"Good. See you at 8." He casually headed back down the hallway.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean had spent entirely too much time getting cleaned up to go out. Shower, shave, brush teeth. He'd even put some kind of product in his hair. Made sure his white undershirt was tucked in and his over shirt was buttoned up just right. Sam had never seen his brother like this. Dean was almost giddy with excitement.

"A date? Dean, have you even been on one of those before?" Sam wanted to know.

"Maybe." Dean slid into his leather jacket.

"Are you really trying this hard just to get into Becca's pants?"

Dean paused and looked over at his brother. His face was serious. "No, I'm not, actually." Then he brightened again. "Wish me luck, Sammy!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Godspeed, dude."

He couldn't help but laugh as he watched Dean skip out of the hotel room. To go on a date with a crunchy librarian who held a PhD.

* * *

Becca looked in the mirror, giving herself one final inspection. She'd decided to wear an ombre kurta tunic and a pair of white capri leggings. Her long blonde hair was flat ironed and fell almost to the middle of her back. After rubbing a dab of sandalwood oil on her pulse points, she was ready to go.

Nobody ever asked her out. Becca had thought it over in the shower and couldn't remember the last time she'd been on a date. It was always just a coffee after work with a guy who never called again. Always "just friends," or "like a sister." Or her personal favorite, "you've got a great personality," which was usually the nice way of saying "I don't think you're attractive."

Her doorbell rang at 8:07. She headed downstairs to answer it.

There was Dean, holding a bouquet of flowers.

Her cheeks grew rosy and she did that nose wrinkle laugh.

"Oh come on, don't laugh at me." His tone was mischievous.

"I'm not, I'm not," she stepped back to let him inside.

"Well, these are for you, obviously." He handed her the flowers as he walked by.

"Thank you. They're beautiful, Dean. Let me just go put them in some water and we'll head out."

Dean watched her walk into the kitchen. Those leggings she had on ought to be illegal. But unfortunately, she was covering that knock-out body of hers with a damn paper bag looking top.

"All set?" Becca came back into the foyer.

Dean gestured to the front door. "After you."

He caught her scent as she walked by him. Oh Christ, it was going to be a long night.

Becca was touched when Dean opened the passenger door for her.

"This is my baby." Dean put his hands on the wheel and looked over at Becca. "Baby, this is Becca."

"Hi." Becca rubbed the dashboard gently. "It's a pleasure."

They went to a place that served sushi and tapas on conveyor belts. Becca ate a few avocado rolls, while Dean kept picking up nearly every plate that went by. Every now and then his hazel eyes would scan the area, as if keeping watch on everything that was going on.

"Are those flowers coming back?" He asked, taking a sip of his beer. He'd vowed to have only one tonight.

"Actually, they're not. I can't figure it out. You guys were just over, right? I mean, we planted them but they wilted within a few days. I did everything I could."

"Weird. So…you got any siblings?"

"No, just me. My parents divorced when I was younger. They live elsewhere now. We don't talk much. What about you?"

"Just me and Sammy."

Becca nodded thoughtfully. "For some reason, I always wanted to have a younger brother or sister. I wanted to be a big sister, you know? Take them under my wing and all that. Stand up for them. It's an important job."

"It is," Dean agreed. He took his role as a big brother extremely seriously. "Tell me your favorite color."

"Purple. Yours?"

"I dunno, black?"

"Isn't black the absorption of all colors? So in a way, you're saying you like every color." She shot him the cutest smile he'd ever seen.

He couldn't help but smile back at her. "I guess you're right. Movies?"

"Uhm…" Becca thought for a moment. "_Casablanca_? No! _Inception_. Wait…" She drummed her fingers on her lips. "_Fight Club_? That's a good book. Shit, I can't decide. What about you?"

"Probably _The Shining_."

"Nice choice. Good book, too."

"Let's move on to TV."

Becca laughed. "We're running the gauntlet tonight, aren't we?"

"You better believe it."

"I like this show called_ Black Books_. It's about a bookstore and it's really funny. But I actually don't have cable, so I don't watch much TV. How boring is that?"

"It's okay, I don't watch it much either."

"How come?"

"Not enough time, I guess."

"Yeah, same here."

"Do you have time to… you know…date?"

She wasn't sure how to answer that, so she just decided to be honest. "I don't get asked out often."

A part of him wasn't surprised. "Gotcha. I, uh, don't date much either."

"Right." Becca looked skeptical.

"I'm serious. I don't have time. Like TV." Dean suddenly decided to change the subject. "Okay. The best for last. Let's talk music."

Becca's eyes lit up. "Finally! Who's your favorite?"

"Zeppelin," they both said at the same time.

"I knew I liked you." Dean laughed.

"I'll listen to anything as long as it's good."

"Well… I'll give you a free pass on the Dave."

"Oh come on, Dave's classic. He's an annual tradition for me. So's Phish. And I went to Burning Man a few years ago. Almost sweat into a puddle during the day, and then freeze your ass off at night."

"Who'd you go with?"

"Just me. You meet all kinds of people there. That's what it's all about."

"God, you are such a hippie." Dean rolled his eyes playfully. "Hey, you want anything?"

"Another club soda with a lime would be great."

Dean hit the button to call the server over. Their server, a perky brunette, was at their booth instantly. "What can I do for you?" Her gaze was completely focused on Dean.

"Another club soda and lime for the lady, please."

The server lingered.

Dean looked up at her and smiled. "Thanks."

She headed over to the bar, where a few of the other servers were waiting for her. They began to whisper to one other. Across the way, a tall, leggy redhead was giving him the eye.

For heaven's sake.

Becca laughed and rubbed her forehead with her palm.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Just…you."

He tilted his head. "Me?"

The server set the drink on the table and quickly continued on her way.

"You haven't noticed that you're the center of attention in this place?"

"Nah."

Normally he would love the looks he was getting, and would be right there at the bar in the middle of them all. But not tonight. Tonight he was on his best behavior, and only here with one woman. All of his attention was on Becca Nourse. And he didn't feel like he was missing a damn thing.

Dean grabbed another plate from the belt. "Oooo… Try this with me, Becca."

"What is it?"

He grabbed a piece of the roll and slid the plate towards her. "I have no idea."

Becca picked up a piece, looking at it curiously. It didn't even look edible. She hoped nothing had died in order to create this abomination wrapped in nori and sticky rice.

"Thanks for coming out with me tonight." He touched his piece to hers. "Cheers." He popped it into his mouth with a wink.

Becca chewed the roll timidly. It wasn't half bad. Still, she chased it with a long sip of club soda.

The server returned yet again. Dean asked for the check.

Becca instinctively reached for her purse.

He shot her a playful look. "Really, Becca? I ask you out. I pick you up. I give you flowers. I open every door for you. And you still don't know what this is?" He put a hand on his chest. "I'm hurt."

"Will you at least let me pay for parking?"

"I don't think you understand, Doctor." Dean leaned across the table towards her. "You're on a date. With me." He reached out and gently took her hands into his.

As if on cue, the server sat their check on the table. Becca jumped and pulled her hands away from Dean's. Her eyes darted to the check. The server had written her phone number on it. Dean pulled out a few bills and sat them on the table.

"Hey, keep the change," Dean told the server, never taking his eyes off of Becca. He stood up and grabbed his jacket, then held out his hand to her. "Come on."

He drew her up on her feet. His hand automatically went to the small of her back as they headed for the door.

"You and your little sister have a good night," The hostess said pointedly.

As if family obligation was the only explanation for the two of them to be out in public together.

Becca felt Dean's grip on her tighten slightly as he chuckled. "She's not my sister, lady. And thank god, because I'm taking her home with me tonight."


	7. Chapter 7

They rode back to Becca's house in comfortable silence. Dean kept one hand on Becca's thigh, the other on the steering wheel. He couldn't believe how normal he felt with her. It had been so long.

The Impala pulled into her driveway beside her plum colored Honda Fit like it belonged there.

Dean shut off the car.

"Can I walk you to your door?"

"I'd like that."

Becca waited patiently for him to come around and open the door for her. He was being such a gentleman. She took his hand, and they walked to her front door together. His eyes cautiously kept observing their surroundings, like he'd done in the restaurant. Becca assumed was just a nervous tic.

When they reached the door, she turned and looked up at him.

"Thanks, Dean."

"You're welcome."

The tension was thick in the air. Becca had to remind herself to breathe. Had she known this would be coming? Maybe a part of her did.

Dean reached down and removed her glasses. Those baby blues blinked up at him a few times. He put the glasses in his front jacket pocket.

"Dr. Nourse," he said slowly. "When did your flowers start dying?"

He was asking about the flowers again? Seriously?

Becca was staring at his lips. She tried to tell her mind to think, but he was in her personal space and it was overwhelming.

"Uh…a few months ago, maybe?"

"What else happened around that time?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Dean's face was inches from hers. "Think, Becca."

"Those flowers were amazing perennials. They'd been there for as long as I could remember."

"What else."

"I replanted everything multiple times. It all died. My plants _never_ die."

"What else."

"There were…flies. And it…it rained. A lot."

She could practically see the wheels in his head turning.

"And what else."

"Uhm. It hadn't rained in a while? It was so dry."

Dean turned back to her, chewing his lip, still thinking.

Then, without any warning, he hauled Becca against him, kissing her roughly.

Her eyes instantly closed, and she gripped his shoulders, pulling herself up closer to him.

As quickly as the kiss had begun, Dean ended it. "Anything else you can think of?"

"It's…unusual, because Salem is close to the water, I guess? Usually the storms blow right in."

Dean decided he didn't want to talk about this anymore. All he could think about at this point was taking this librarian doctor to bed. Suddenly, he wished that he had a bed of his own that he could take her to. Hers would have to do.

"Unlock the door." His hands were on her waist.

Becca rummaged through her purse for her keys. Then she stopped.

"Dean, I think you should know…. that I'm celibate."

_WHAT?!_ He wanted to shout.

His brow furrowed. "Why? You're lettin' that body go to waste."

"Because I have no life, and nobody is interested. Sex is scary and very serious."

_SCARY?!_

"You've…never had sex?"

Becca shook her head, unlocking her front door. She ducked around him to go inside.

His dick throbbed in his jeans.

Dean stuck his palm out flat on the door jamb, trapping her in front of him. "Becca, wait."

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. He was afraid of scaring her off, so he knew he had to choose his words carefully.

"I've never had to ask for this in my life," his voice was low. "But please, Becca. I have to have you."

"Dean."

"Please, Becca." His hazel eyes were full of desire.

Becca knew it was now or never. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Opened them. And finally spoke. "Let's go inside."


	8. Chapter 8

_This chapter of lemon fluff is dedicated to my handful of followers. Thanks for coming along for the ride._

* * *

As they silently climbed the stairs to her bedroom, Dean actually felt butterflies in his stomach. He couldn't recall if he'd ever been with a virgin. He had been with so many women in his life. He would have to go slow and make it worth it for Becca. Sex was definitely not scary, and Dean couldn't think of a better person than himself to show her that.

A virgin. He would be her first. He was one lucky man, even if virgins weren't exactly at the top of his list.

Her bedroom was purple. Somehow, he wasn't surprised.

She turned to him, her lips brushing against his.

Becca removed Dean's jacket and over shirt, tossing both across a chair. She ran her hands down his t-shirt to the waistband of his jeans. After she'd untucked his shirt, her hands slipped beneath it, palms slowly running up his chest. She kissed him again before pulling the shirt up over his head.

Oh Jesus. He was too perfect.

She'd tried not to watch him when he'd worked in her yard that day. Shirtless and muscle that glistened with sweat in the sun. That peculiar tattoo that didn't seem to suit him at all. And that handprint scar that took center stage among the other scars that flecked his body and arms. When he stood before her, this close, she was completely overwhelmed. Everywhere Becca put her hands, her lips followed. She kissed the dusting of freckles along his cheekbones, his pretty, dark lashes tickling her nose. Then she gingerly touched the scar. When her lips pressed against it, he humbly bowed his head, his eyelids fluttering closed. Dean slowly let out a shaky breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, and relaxed. Her tenderness and reverence towards him was extremely moving.

When her lips nuzzled his neck, Dean felt tentative fingers run along the waistband of his jeans.

Son of a bitch.

He stopped her. "Becca, I just realized I don't have any protection." He hadn't intended for this to be happening tonight.

"I'm on the Pill. And I trust you, Dean."

His lips found hers again as he reached down and helped her unbuckle his belt.

Once his jeans were on the floor, he stepped out of them, kicking them to the side with a socked foot.

"Okay, so… this isn't fair." He pinched his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger as his eyes scanned her body, giving her a sexy smile. "Those clothes have gotta go, Becca."

Becca appreciated his humor, especially at a time like this.

Dean's hands were at the hem of her kurta. Ever so gently, he pulled it up, up and over her head. The second he tossed it to the side, he pulled her against his bare chest, running his palms over her back. Expert fingers undid the clasp of her bra. He pushed her slowly away from him as the straps slid down her shoulders and the bra fell to the floor.

Dean gazed down at her breasts with full admiration. They were lush and perky, fitting perfectly into his hands as he ran his thumbs over her nipples.

She closed her eyes, bashfully pressing her cheek against his chest. He rubbed her back, calmly and patiently waiting until she was ready to continue.

"You'd think I was 15 by the way I was acting."

"I feel 15 right now," he admitted. "And damn humble, let me tell you."

She lifted her head to look at him. Dean Winchester stood before her in nothing but his grey boxers and white socks. With his messy hair, gorgeous hazel eyes, and incredible body.

"You are so not 15."

His shook his head once. "Nope."

Becca pulled her leggings down and stepped out of them. She now wore nothing but her panties.

"There, Dean. Now we're even."

Dean's mouth nearly dropped. Why did she hide such ample, voluptuous curves underneath those loose bohemian clothes?

And those little white panties. Oh those pure, sweet, cotton bikini panties.

He kissed her, walking her backwards and onto the bed. Becca obligingly laid back on it.

"What are you doing?" She tried to cover herself but he pulled her arm back.

"I just…I need to look at you for a minute." His eyes glided over her body as he let out a low breath. "You're so…." His voice trailed off and he shook his head.

Dean stretched out beside Becca, running his hand down her shoulder to her curvy waist, on to the swell of her hips. When he ran his forefinger along the inside of the band of her panties, she tensed.

"It's okay. Just relax."

She breathed deep, closing her eyes. She felt her underwear slide down her hips, down her legs, brush her toes, and then they were gone. She lay completely naked before him.

"Has anyone ever seen you before?"

Becca shook her head.

"Oh Rebecca…" Dean breathed, planting a kiss just below her belly button, then dipping his tongue into it. He smiled against her skin when he heard her gasp. She whimpered when he ran his tongue across to nibble at her delicate little hipbones.

"Oh my god."

"Nope, just me." His arrogant charm turned her on.

She was perfect to him, smoothly trimmed and silky soft. When a finger tried to slip between her thighs, she squeezed them together, stopping him.

He looked at her. "Am I going too fast?"

She shook her head. "It's not fair."

His lips spread into a smile. "My boxers?"

"Your boxers."

Becca caught Dean's lips in her own, running her hands down his chest to the waistband. The muscles in Dean's abdomen clenched when he felt her hand slide down into his boxers.

His eyes rolled shut when her fingers closed around him. His breath caught and he pressed his forehead against hers.

"Dean?"

"It's okay."

"Well, will you take them off? I don't want to hurt you."

Dean couldn't pull the damn things off fast enough.

His phone vibrated in his jeans on the floor.

He ignored it, placing a kiss on the adorable little peacock feather tattoos on the outside of her heels. Then he kissed her ankles and began working his way up.

The vibrating stopped.

And then started again.

"You should probably get that."

"Dammit," he swore as he reached her knees.

He got up and padded over to grab his phone, giving Becca an amazing view of his backside.

It was Sam, of course.

"Yeah?"

"Dean, I think I found something about the lobsters. It's something to do with Animism and water."

"Sam, I really can't talk right now."

"Why not?"

"I just…." He looked over at Becca. He saw her breasts rise and fall with each breath. Dean scratched his head. "I just can't right now, Sammy. Becca and I are doin' some research of our own. I think we might be onto something."

She snorted.

"Well, just let me know what you guys find. Tell her I'm gonna make some copies on the machine in her office."

"I'll tell her. Thanks, dude."

"Yep."

Dean dropped his phone on the floor and returned to the bed. "Sorry about that. Where was I?" He looked adorably flustered.

"Kneecaps, I think."

"Right." He went back to work.

When his lips finally reached their goal, Becca was writhing beneath him. She gripped his shoulders tightly, trying to hold still as his capable tongue brought her to the edge and skillfully nudged her over it.

"I don't think I've ever felt that before," she gasped, still holding on to him. She didn't want to let go.

"Good."

"Dean, please." She wasn't completely sure what she was asking for.

He slid a single finger between the silky folds of her thighs. She was so soft and wet, completely ready for him.

Dean kissed her as he braced himself up on his palms over Becca. "Are you sure about this?"

She nodded and licked her lips, tasting herself. Dean found that incredibly hot.

"Say it."

"Yes, I'm sure."

He grabbed himself with his hand, rubbing against her, praying for control. Becca sighed and closed her eyes.

"No. I need you to look at me."

Their eyes met and held.

"Becca…" Dean slowly guided himself into her. There was just barely a tiny bit of resistance, then pure, wet hot tightness.

Becca's lips parted in silent astonishment, her brow furrowed at him.

He was halfway inside when he let go of himself and reached up to touch her cheek. "Do you want me to stop?"

She shook her head. "Please do it, Dean."

God damn, she was asking him for it. He rolled his hips, entering her fully. She felt him right up to her pubic bone.

Becca whimpered, arching up instinctively into Dean's chest. "Oh god."

"Nope, still Dean." She felt his lips and breathy chuckle against her ear, giving her chills. He slowly began to thrust into her. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No."

Well yes, but it was a good hurt.

"Just tell me if I am, okay?"

"Uh-Huh."

Holy shit, she was having sex. With this beautiful man. In her bed.

"You are so fucking sweet and tight…_Rebecca_…" Dean clenched his jaw. He could barely move inside of her. She felt incredible.

The sound of his voice saying her name like that sent a jolt of electricity through her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

He leaned up and pulled back a little, licking his thumb. He reached down and gently rubbed her clit.

Becca groaned, pawing at his abdomen.

"That feel good?"

"Yeah." She squirmed a little and gripped his waist. Her nails dug into his skin. The slight sting brought his pleasure to another level.

"Let it happen, Becca."

"Dean…"

"Good girl. That's it, sweetheart."

He felt the muscles inside of her clench around him as her orgasm hit her. The look on her face was one of the sexiest things he'd ever seen.

Number two. Dean smiled at his victory, leaning down and kissing her softly. After urging her legs around his waist, he began to thrust into her harder and faster.

"Oh god, it's…sensitive…Dean…" Becca sobbed his name.

But he was unrelenting. A sweat broke out across his forehead. He was so close. Gently gripping her shoulders, Dean gave a few more thrusts before he felt the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had. He growled with pleasure against her lips, their teeth practically knocking together. He collapsed heavily on top her, forehead against hers, panting.

Becca rubbed Dean's arms thoughtfully, letting what had just happened sink in. After a moment, she got up and went to the bathroom. The toilet flushed. She returned a few moments later and began gathering her clothes.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed?"

"Why?" Dean wanted to know.

She straightened. "Because…"

"Uh-uh. You." He pointed to her. "Right here with me." He pointed to the bed. "Just wait."

Becca obeyed. Dean got up and went to the bathroom. She'd just gotten comfortable when he returned and plopped down beside her.

"So…" He stretched out, lacing his fingers together and putting them back behind his head. He looked right at home there in her bed, in nothing but his socks.

"So."

"Wait, it's not gonna be awkward between us now, is it?" Dean glanced over at Becca, making a face.

"We had sex, Dean."

He smiled with satisfaction. "Yes we did."

"Why do you have that look on your face?"

"Because I am one very happy man right now."

"How long are you going to lay there?"

"Do you want me to leave?"

"Of course not!"

"Then I'll stay." He made himself more comfortable. "So, you're a doctor?"

"Well, I have a PhD in Library Studies. I'm no brain surgeon."

He looked over at her, his eyes narrowing playfully. "You don't play Dungeons and Dragons, do you?"

"No." She laughed. "But I collect children's books. Shit, Dean, what am I saying? I collect _books_. Period."

"What's your favorite children's book?"

"_Where the Wild Things Are_ is one of my favorites. _Go, Dog. Go! _And Tommy DePaola's illustrations are out of this world. I did an internship at the Eric Carle museum out near Amherst and it was the best."

"And what's your favorite book?"

"_American Gods_ by Neil Gaiman, no question."

Dean rolled over onto his stomach, resting his chin in his hands. For some reason, he found her nerdiness incredibly sexy.

"I wish I could fuck you again right now."

"Dean."

"I would hurt you even more." The thought turned him on immensely.

"You didn't hurt me."

For some reason, that mattered to him. "I didn't?"

"No. You were…very careful." Becca's voice was a whisper. She reached out and gently ran her hand across the muscular small of his back. She couldn't keep her hands off him. "Is this okay?"

He barely managed a nod.

"Dean…who are you?"

His eyes went dark. "There's a lot of things that I just don't think you need to know."

"Can I at least know something?"

"I have a brother named Sam and I like my car."

"I already knew those things." That sexy nose wrinkle laugh.

"I like good music. And you."

"I knew that, too."

_And I fucking hunt. And kill. I've lost every person I've ever cared about. That's why I cling so desperately to my brother.  
I've been through the gates of hell, but an angel of the Lord and an army of Heavenly Hosts pulled me out._

"Then you know everything you need to."

Dean listened to Becca talk about archiving and preserving documents until her eyes got heavy.

"I'm fading over here. Are you going to stay? If you don't, I understand."

He looked down at her there, naked before him. Her hair spilled messily over her pillow, the sheet was barely pulled up to cover her breasts.

There was no way he could bring himself to leave her bed.

"Can I stay?"

"Please do."

He fluffed the pillow and curled up, pulling her close to him.

Sleep came for them almost instantly.

* * *

Dean woke a few hours later to the sound of Becca whining. She was in a cold sweat. Her eyes were shut tight, her hands fisted on either side of her head.

He felt the sudden urge to protect her. It was like a blow to the gut.

"Becca?" Dean shook her gently. "Becca, wake up."

Becca sat up, her eyes opening. Gasping for breath, she looked over at him. "Dean?"

"Yeah, just me."

She sighed with relief, collapsing against him, her forehead on his chest. He put an arm around her bare shoulders, rubbing her back soothingly.

"I'm glad you're here," Becca told him. She looked over at the clock. It was just after 2:30 A.M. She let out a long, relaxing breath before lying back down.

"You okay?" Dean gently brushed back a few damps strands from her forehead.

"Yeah."

"So…you want to talk about it?"

"I was being crushed…dying. It's nothing new, I –"

Before she could say anymore, her phone began to vibrate, sliding across the bedside table. She reached over and caught it before it fell.

"It's Sam."

Dean held out his hand. Becca passed him the phone.

"Hey, Sammy."

"Dean?" Sam sounded confused.

"Becca's asleep." Dean gave her a wink. She rolled her eyes, swinging a pillow at him. He easily dodged it. He shot her a flirtatious look, a silent promise to deal with her later.

"I was just gonna leave Becca a message to tell her I locked the library up tight when I left. I've been here at the hotel for a few hours."

"Listen, Sam, Becca's having nightmares."

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah, that she's being crushed to death."

The line was silent.

"Are you there, Sam?"

"I'm here."

Another pause.

"You're in bed with her, aren't you?"

"Sam…"

"I'm not stupid, Dean." Sam was laughing. "But the dreams, she's really having them?"

"She is."

"Okay. Let me get back to you."

The call ended.


	9. Chapter 9

"During the witch hunt, they crushed someone." Sam slid the open book over to his brother. "Giles Corey. He was crushed to death with rocks. They were trying to get him to confess, but he just asked for more weight."

Dean's eyes skimmed the page. There was a crude drawing recreating the death of Giles Corey.

"And you think this is what Becca's dreaming?"

Sam nodded. "It makes sense."

"So Becca is Giles Corey?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"No, no, she doesn't have to be." Sam was pacing. "But she…there's…I dunno, I can't explain it. She carries it."

"What?"

"The memories of what happened, maybe? I think Becca is …Becca. But I think that there's something here that's been passed along in her family and in this place, and this town. Becca and her family have been here for generations."

Dean nodded with understanding.

"And I think there's some kind of demon or spirit, Dean. I don't think that there was any witchcraft involved during the Salem witch trials. I think maybe it was a possession. Think about it. The stuff Becca told you. It's all just too weird."

"Well. You know I fucking _hate_ witches."

"I know."

Dean's phone went off. He looked at the number.

It was his favorite angel, the baby in the trench coat.

"Castiel."

"I believe an introduction is in order, Dean."

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

* * *

Castiel sat on the bed beside Sam and unwrapped a cheeseburger. "When can I meet her?"

"She's on her way. Listen, Cas, she's…she's real special to me."

"I know she is. That is why I want to meet her. This is of great import, Dean."

"I understand."

* * *

Becca pulled her Fit in a parking spot beside the Impala. Dean had called her and asked if she'd come by their hotel. A friend was passing through town and wanted to meet her.

She easily found the room and knocked.

Dean stood up, nervously rubbing his palms on his thighs. "Be on your best behavior." He pointed at Castiel.

"I always am."

He went over and opened the door.

She looked amazing, her pretty blonde hair in curled layers around her face. And she wore a pair of Levis. Dean pleasantly noted that had never seen her in jeans before. They hugged her figure in all the right places. A clingy, tie-dyed ruffled shirt topped everything off, displaying just a little hint of her cleavage.

"Hi!"

"Hey. You look _sexy_." He couldn't stop looking at her. He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Damn, sweetheart, and you smell as good as you look."

_Sweetheart._

Sam ears perked up. He could count on one hand the people in Dean's life that had nicknames. Himself, Castiel, Bobby, and the Impala.

"Dean." That nose wrinkle laugh. He effortlessly knew how to get to her.

Dean suddenly wished it was just the two of them. They hadn't seen each other since their night together.

Castiel cleared his throat, waiting impatiently.

"Becca, there's uh, someone I'd like you to meet."

Dean swung the door the rest of the way open.

Castiel stood up, wearing his usual long, khaki coat and loose neck tie. Becca's first impression was that he was some kind of detective or a cop.

"Hello, Rebecca." His voice was deep and gravelly.

"Hi, nice to meet you…"

"Castiel."

"Castiel." Becca smiled and held out her hand to him.

Castiel tilted his head, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. He looked over at Dean, and then stepped forward, taking Becca's hand into his.

"So much light," Castiel whispered.

Becca was genuinely touched by his words. "Thank you."

"Yes." He held onto her hand, looking her right in the eyes.

Becca didn't waver.

Castiel looked back to Dean. "Her light. It's…" He fumbled for the right words. "It's intense. Such Grace."

Dean chuckled.

"Have we met before?" Becca asked. "I just…I'm sorry, I feel like we have."

"Perhaps we have," Castiel responded cryptically. He released Becca's hand and picked up his cheeseburger again. "Have you ever tried one of these?"

She laughed. "I can honestly say I don't remember the last time I had one of those."

"Why?"

"I don't eat meat."

Castiel glanced over at Dean. "What does she mean by this?"

"That dead cow that's on that bun, Cas. She doesn't eat it."

He turned back to Becca. "Rebecca, why not?"

"I love animals too much. It hurts my heart to think of killing them for food."

He took a bite of the burger. "It tastes too delicious for me to care about my heart."

Becca's musical laughter made his face soften.

"Would you sing for us?" Castiel asked randomly.

"I'm sorry?" Becca looked confused.

"Music."

"Yes, I'm very fond of music, but…"

"You can sing."

"You know, I've never tried."

"Just try."

Becca opened her mouth and then closed it. She looked at Dean. His face was serious. She could see that he, too, was confused. But he gave her a nod of encouragement.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened her mouth.

"Ave Verum Corpus" came out. It was one of the most beautiful, haunting sounds Dean had ever heard. Sam put his book down, sitting up straighter and watching Becca with a very surprised look on his face.

When Becca finished, she opened her eyes and looked at the three men staring at her.

"That sounded…_divine_." Sam whispered.

"It _was_ divine." Castiel's lips spread into a small, satisfied smile. "I knew it was you."

"Wait a minute, you two know each other?" Dean asked, feeling a tiny mixture of anger and jealousy.

"He seems so familiar," Becca responded. "But I just…I can't place him."

"Yofiel," Castiel said simply. "That's who she is."

"Wait a minute, she's an angel?" Sam practically leapt to his feet. "I thought you were the only one for like, 2,000 years? Or something?"

"Apparently not."

"I don't understand." Dean was shaking his head at Castiel. "What the fuck is going on here?"

"Maybe I should go." Becca reached for the doorknob.

"You stay here." He pointed to Castiel. "And you start talking. Now."

"When Giles Corey died, they say that his last words were a spell, a curse upon the people of Salem. But it wasn't a curse at all…"

"It was a prayer." Dean's voice was barely audible. He looked at Becca. "Son of a bitch."

Becca just stood there. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just…I'm a librarian. I've lived here my whole life. My family has always lived here."

"To protect Salem and guard the souls of the Nourse family," Castiel said. He removed the top bun from the cheeseburger and glanced at the patty thoughtfully. "You know, I think you might be right about the dead cow, Yofiel. It is quite sad when I think about it. And I thought these made me happy."

"Can we please stick to the subject here?" Dean was visibly agitated. "She's an angel? But angels are such _dicks_. Are you sure about this? Rebecca Nourse. "

"Like one of the nicest people ever," Sam added.

"I already said it, didn't I? Yofiel. The Divine Beauty. Former companion of Metatron and head of the choir. In some lore she is Dina, the guardian of the Torah and of wisdom itself. This explains her singing ability as well being a librarian. Now tell me, when is your birthday, Rebecca?"

"September."

Castiel nodded. "Of course it is."

"Wait. Is Yofiel a male? Is Dina a female? So what does that mean…?" Sam cast a worried glance at his brother.

"We're sexless, you know that. But she is… quite female, as you can clearly see. Do you know what else they say Yofiel did, Sam?"

"Kicked out Adam and Eve. Then guarded the Tree of Life," Sam answered softly. "If that is the case, then Yofiel is the first angel ever to be mentioned in the Bible."

"Dean…" Becca looked like she was trapped.

Dean didn't know what to do. "Rebecca, is this true?"

"I don't know what he's talking about, I swear to you."

"Maybe she doesn't know." Castiel shrugged.

"She's like a god damn sleeper cell," Dean muttered, taking a step towards Becca. "Becca, I'm sorry about this…"

She let Dean put an arm around her. She wasn't sure what to say. An angel? Her? She was just some nerdy librarian with astigmatism and huge hips. And where had that voice come from? She didn't speak Latin. She'd never heard that song in her life.

Had she?

Becca closed her eyes, trying to remember.

The light was so bright.

"Oh my god." She lifted her head from Dean's shoulder. She looked at Castiel, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I've been here for such a long time, haven't I?"

Castiel nodded. "Centuries. You've assimilated flawlessly. Human, and yet you still maintain your Grace. I do not know how you've managed to do it. You have done a remarkable job."

"But, Castiel, am I still…_me_?"

"Do not doubt it."

Becca gave a sigh of relief and looked up at Dean. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't know."

It all made sense now. How she walked the line. The celibacy. Her alcohol tolerance. Her impeccable green thumb. Her gracefulness. How children loved her. She was celestial all along.

Becca suddenly pulled away from him. "Wait. Hold on. I'm confused. How have I protected Salem? And who the hell are you all really?" She slowly backed towards the door. This conversation had all of the sudden gotten way too deep.

"Wait, don't go." Sam held his hand out to stop her. "Just…you might want to have a seat, okay?"

Becca nodded, sitting down in the desk chair.

The three exchanged glances.

"Someone had better talk to me, please."

Dean took a deep breath. He figured he should be the one to tell her. "Sam and I are hunters."

"Okay."

"And he's an angel." Dean pointed to Castiel.

"Okay." Becca made a face. "Are you hunting lobsters?"

Dean chuckled. "Sammy thought maybe something was happening with the sudden, mysterious deaths of the lobsters out in Gloucester. We were going out there to see what was going on. We got turned around, and then you know the rest."

"So… you're not that kind of hunter. Then what do you hunt?"

"Bad things," he told her. "It's dangerous."

"What kind of bad things?" The look on her face almost broke his heart. Genuine concern for his welfare. And complete trust.

"Demons, Rebecca," the words just fell from his lips. "Poltergeists, spirits, you name it. Bad things."

"Like witches? I'm not a witch. There aren't any witches here. There never have been."

Dean shuddered. "I hate them so much."

"We don't think you're a witch," Sam assured her.

"Are you with me, Becca?" Dean asked.

Becca nodded. "I think I am, actually." She leaned back in the chair, letting it all sink in. "So Sam and Dean are spooky hunters. Castiel is an angel. And I'm an angel. I've been here for centuries, guarding Salem from a demon that possessed people back in the 1600s."

"That…pretty much covers it," Castiel finally spoke.

"So the Salem witch hysteria was a possession?"

"It wasn't witchcraft," Castiel explained. "There was a demon. It wasn't how history remembers it. When Giles Corey uttered his last words, the Lord answered his prayer and sent you here to protect this town from anything like that ever happening again."

"So her dreams of someone crushing her chest," Sam mused. "That's like remembering being born or something." He looked at Becca with amazement.

"But how do Becca and Yofiel exist in the same body?" He asked.

"Rebecca's just kind of dormant, I guess? Or maybe Yofiel is." Castiel shrugged. "I would assume that perhaps a deal was made for Yofiel to continue down the Nourse family line. I'm afraid I don't quite understand it myself. But I do know that it has worked."

Becca looked at the floor, her mind reeling. "You know, for some reason, I believe you guys. Maybe it's all of the books I've read or something." She looked over at Dean and repeated the same words she'd told him the night he took her virginity. "I trust you, Dean. I refuse to believe that you're a danger or a threat to me. There's just no way."

He let out a sigh of relief. "I don't think this could've gone any easier." However, time would have to tell; maybe it hadn't sunk in for her yet.

"Well, I still need to have my conversation with Rebecca," Castiel pointed out. "Would you excuse us?"

Dean looked at Becca for approval, and she gave him a nod. "It'll be fine. Thanks."


	10. Chapter 10

"Am I gonna have to end this, Sam?" Dean asked his brother. The two were sitting across from each other at a nearby diner. "Because I don't think I can. I'm…I'm so deep in this already, dude. And I didn't mean for it to happen."

"I know. I guess it's something you'll have to decide for yourself."

"You know," Dean stared at his puddle of ketchup thoughtfully. "Mom used to always tell me that angels were watching over me."

"Yeah."

"And it was true."

"Cas said he had a reason for needing to meet her. What do you think it is?"

"I have no idea."

Sam poked at his salad with his fork. He wasn't as hungry as he thought. "Are you thinking about Anna?"

Dean blinked a few times, sniffed and took a long drink of his beer. "I, uh…I'm not sure what it meant with her…but…"

"Is this different?"

"This is different from everything, Sam."

"You gave her a nickname."

Dean gave a chuckle. "You caught that, huh? It, uh…it just kind of happened with everything else." He shrugged. "I guess Becca's my sweetheart."

Sam tossed a crouton at him. "Dean and Becca sittin' a tree…"

* * *

Becca decided to have everyone over at her place that night for lasagna and brownies. And to discuss Castiel's news.

"It is Metatron. He's looking for her Grace."

"But we're not gonna let him find her, right?" Sam asked.

"Right."

"I have enough here to deal with already, Castiel. There's apparently a demon lurking around here wanting to possess me because it thinks I'm my grandmother from the 1600s."

"But you aren't." Castiel stated simply.

"That doesn't matter to them," Dean explained.

"Well, Rebecca hasn't really been on the radar. Also, the demon that has been trying for years to gain access to the Nourse family..." Castiel picked up a brownie from the plate. He took a bite. "And now that you are here, the demon is going to be trying harder than ever before. Especially since you've…distracted her, Dean." The angel looked at him pointedly.

That's what Dean was afraid of.

"What do I do to protect her?"

Castiel chewed thoughtfully. "This is a very good brownie."

"Yeah, and you're gonna be feelin' it in a few minutes. Now tell me, what do I do?"

"Let her continue to live her life. There is no reason to bother her. Metatron has not come for her yet."

"So...we do nothing for her?" Sam looked confused.

"That is what I am saying." Castiel reached for another brownie.

"I'm not letting that happen. She's my responsibility."

_Excuse me?_

"I'm still standing right here, guys," Becca reminded them dryly. "Don't you think I have a say in what goes on?"

"Not when it comes to your safety," Dean told her. "That's my job, sweetheart."

"Dean – "

"I'm not budging on this, Becca."

"I don't understand."

"You don't have to. Just let me handle this."

Her cheeks got hot and she looked away. She was not happy.

Castiel and Sam eyed Dean curiously. This was new.

"Excuse us." Becca grabbed Dean by the wrist and pulled him into the other room.

"Dean, I'm sure that you don't want everyone to know what happened between us. That's fine. But please don't think you owe me anything because of what happened, especially because you were my first. It's okay, really."

"What? You think I regret that?"

Becca shrugged. "You're hard to read. The way you are with me and the way you are with your brother and Castiel and… it's confusing. And now you're doing this weird macho act – "

"The way I am with you and the way I am when it comes other stuff…very separate things. And, for the record, I don't regret anything with you. In fact, I want it to happen again. It meant way more to me than it probably should have, Rebecca."

"Me too," she said quietly.

He put his hands on her waist, pulling her to him. "Just let me do this, okay? It makes me feel like I'm at least doing something for you. And it helps keep this crazy Tarzan possessive thing I'm feeling for you at bay."

"Tarzan? Really, Dean?"

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart! Put you over my shoulder and carry you off to my tree house. I've claimed you now. MY WOMAN!"

Sam and Castiel could hear their laughter from the other room. That was a good sign.

"You can check up on me, okay? But nothing crazy. I want to enjoy your company, not just have a security guard. And Castiel reminded us that I need to keep my distance so I can maintain focus on being a guardian. Deal?" She stuck her hand out to him.

He took it. "Deal." He brought her hand to his lips.

"Stop that."

He narrowed his eyes at her. His grin was absolutely wicked. "No."

She was able to dodge Dean's lips before hurrying back into the kitchen. "Who wants lasagna and garlic bread?!"


	11. Chapter 11

Dean parked the Impala at the top of the street and he walked down. He was pacing around in the cul-de-sac, shoulders hunched over, hands in his pockets. He kicked his boot against the wet pavement. The rain was pouring.

His phone went off.

It was a text from Becca.

_I can see you, D._

Muttering a curse under his breath, Dean looked up. He saw her silhouette from behind the antique bubbly glass of the front door.

As he jogged up the steps, she opened the door. She was in a shirt with a Lotus flower on it and her cut offs. "Why are you out there in this weather?"

"I just wanted to check on you."

"Dude, you know you can come inside. You don't have to be so secretive about it."

Dean felt guilty for having a gun on him while in Becca's home. She would flip if she knew. Probably stick a flower in it or something.

"Take off those wet clothes. We'll throw them in the dryer," she told him. "There's a blanket there on the couch."

"Can you give me a second?"

"Of course. Make yourself at home. I'll go start you some coffee, okay?" Becca headed into the kitchen.

Dean quickly took the pistol out of his pocket and stuck it underneath one of the couch cushions. Then he stripped down to his boxers. When she came back, he was standing in her living room. No blanket.

He was on her before she could even speak.

He easily lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist. His hands cupped her bottom, holding her against him.

"Dean, we can't do this," Becca reminded him.

"I don't fucking care."

He carried her upstairs.

Becca tensed as Dean gently pushed her down onto all-fours. His lips were in her ear. "Easy. I'm gonna take care of you." He gripped her hips, pulling her slowly back onto him.

She instinctively pushed against him and let out a whimper of pleasure.

"God damn, sweetheart…look at you…" he whispered, leaning down and brushing back her hair. He kissed her shoulder blade.

She loved it.

"Dean …oh shit…"

He smiled with satisfaction, loving how vocal she was. He couldn't get enough of her saying his name. He was good. And he knew he was. It turned Becca on way more than it reasonably should.

Afterwards, Becca lay against Dean's chest. She could hardly bring herself to speak. "I cannot… believe I just did that."

"You did." He put his chin on the top of her head. "I can vouch. I was there."

"I feel so…_bad_. Doing it from behind like that is just…"

"Pretty fuckin' awesome?"

Her body shook with laughter. "It is." She looked up at him. "So who is Castiel to you?"

"He's a very special friend."

"I see."

"Becca, he saved me. He..." Was he ready to tell her this?

He was.

"He pulled me out of hell."

"Wow, you must have been going through a hard time."

"No, Becca, you don't understand. I was literally in hell."

She blinked a few times. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Sam got stabbed and was…he was dead. And so I made a deal. Then they came for me and..."

"Oh god..." Her lower lip began to tremble.

"The hounds of hell came for me, and I had to hold up my end of the bargain. I was there for a really, really long time." Dean's eyes filled with tears. "And Castiel, he…he saved me. He pulled me out of the Pit. That's what the mark is, Becca. It's from Castiel grabbing me and pulling me out of fucking hell."

Becca wiped her eyes. "Oh Dean…" She reached up and touched his cheek, brushing back his tears with her thumb. "You carry so much."

"I need you, Becca." He whispered against her lips. The honesty of what he'd told her made him feel vulnerable.

"I need you, too, Dean. It's okay." Blue met hazel. "You know how you said you felt that weird Tarzan thing?"

"Yeah?"

"I feel it too," she confessed.

His heart pounded in his ears. That was probably the sexiest thing any woman had ever said to him.

"Well I'm all yours, sweetheart." Dean nipped playfully at her lips.

* * *

When Becca awoke a few hours later, Dean was up, looking out the window. The rain was still pouring, water streaming down the glass.

Becca came up behind him and put her arms around his waist, pulling herself up against him. She kissed the middle of his back, and pressed her cheek against his skin. "Mmm…you're warm. You okay, dude?"

"Yeah." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Can't sleep?"

"I'm just checking everything out."

"Well come back to the tree house, Tarzan," Becca told him teasingly, squeezing him tight. "Everything's fine out there."

Dean nodded, letting her pull him back to bed.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean gently knocked on the door.

"Come in."

The door opened slowly, and he entered the bedroom.

Becca was lying there in a night gown, dozing.

He went over and gave her a kiss. "Hey, sweetheart."

She looked up at him, giving him a tired smile. She was exhausted, but blissful. "Dean. I'm so glad you're here."

"I got here as soon as I could. Can I see her?"

"Of course. Go ahead."

Dean's heart felt like it was going to burst as he approached the bassinet. He ever so carefully lifted the little bundle into his arms as if she were made of glass. A number of emotions ran through him as he glanced down at the tiny life he'd created. Love, relief, uncertainty, possessiveness, pride.

The baby was pink and healthy. He sat on the bed, laying her gently down in front of him. He couldn't stop looking at her.

Dean lovingly stroked her ruddy, chubby cheeks. He unfolded the blanket and counted her ten little toes and fingers. When he stroked her palm, she grabbed onto it tightly. Her fingers barely wrapped around his forefinger.

"She's mine." He looked up at Becca, his voice low.

"All yours. Mary Ruth."

Mary. After his wonderful mother.

"She's perfect," he whispered.

His eyes filled with tears and he quickly wiped them away. "Mary Ruth Winchester." He looked back down at the baby with absolute wonder. "How…"

Becca giggled. "You know how, Dean."

His cheeks felt hot and he smiled sheepishly. "…yeah."

Mary Ruth began to fuss.

Dean shot Becca a worried look.

"It's okay," she assured him. "She's probably just hungry. I'll feed her." She held her arms out.

He carefully handed Mary Ruth over to her, watching with silent awe as Becca pulled back her night gown and began to feed their daughter.

It was the most beautiful, intimate thing he'd ever seen.

His lips brushed against Becca's forehead. "I love you."

* * *

Dean's eyes popped open.

The sun was just beginning to filter in through the honeycomb blinds.

He immediately glanced over at Becca.

She was sound asleep, completely naked beside him. Peaceful and oblivious. He reached over and brushed back a few strands of blonde that had fallen across her face.

He scanned the bedroom. No bassinet to be found.

Well son of a bitch. It was just a dream.

It had felt so real. So amazingly apple pie and perfect.

There was no way he could ever tell anyone about the dream. Not Sam. Not even Becca. It'd probably scare the hell out of her.

Besides, the dream was his. And he planned on clinging to it as tightly as Mary Ruth had held on to his finger.

Dean sighed, running both hands through his hair. He quietly got up and headed into the bathroom.

* * *

Hours later, he got a phone call. After taking the call in the hallway, he came back into the bedroom.

"Uh, listen, I gotta head out for a few days." Dean tugged on his boxers. "I'll just put my clothes on from last night. I dunno if I have time to swing by the hotel or not."

"How about you get a dresser drawer when you get back?" Becca laughed.

"I won't complain." He gave her a wink. "I dunno how long I'll be gone. It shouldn't be too long. Sam's gonna stay in Salem, though. You stay here too."

"In this bed?"

"That'd be ideal."

She went over to him, slipping her arms around his waist. "Be safe."

"I always am." Dean kissed the tip of her nose.

"See you soon."

* * *

Sam hopped the back fence into Becca's yard. He stayed as close to the perimeter as he could, so as not to cut on the motion activated lights on the back deck.

He made it to the door and took a deep breath, pulling his lock pick out of his pocket.

He picked the lock within seconds, and slowly slipped inside the house.

Once the door was shut behind him, Sam exhaled slowly.

He hated doing this.

Dean owed him big time.

* * *

Becca was almost asleep when she heard the back door shut. She sat up in bed, listening.

Footsteps.

Reaching underneath her bed, Becca grabbed her baseball bat. She slowly tiptoed down the stairs.

The kitchen light came on.

"Don't. Move."

Sam put his hands up and slowly turned around. Becca was standing there, in a pair of yoga shorts and a grey tank top with an earth medallion screen-printed onto it. Holding up a baseball bat.

"Sam?"

There he was, in his usual Carhartt jacket. Looking like a child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Hey, Becca." He tried to sound casual and pleasant.

She lowered the bat. "What are you doing here?"

"Keeping watch?"

"Dean sent you, didn't he?"

"He means well, Rebecca."

Becca sighed and sat the bat down on the bar. "Sit. I'll make us some cider."

"Becca, you don't have to – "

"Sam."

Sam propped his chin in his hands, defeated. He watched her set up the Keurig.

"I don't understand what you being here is going to do. You could've just crashed here, instead of the whole hero routine," Becca muttered, pushing the start button. "I mean, I've been just fine without you guys for years…" Her voice trailed off and she looked up from the machine. "I'm sorry, Sam. I shouldn't be ungrateful."

"No. I completely understand," Sam told her. "You were doing just fine until we showed up. Sometimes we can do more harm than good."

"Don't worry about it, Sam. You guys do what you feel like you need to. And things have been kind of weird lately. I've always known I was different, but the news I've recently received is…kind of…"

"Intense?"

"That's a word for it." Becca handed him a mug of apple cider. "You want a pastry or something?" She looked exhausted.

"No, Becca. This is more than enough. Thank you. Just get some sleep, okay? You have work in the morning?"

Becca nodded. "Yeah. Just make yourself at home. I'm truly glad you're here, Sam." She grabbed the bat, shuffling into the parlor. Sam saw her curl up on the couch.

When she began to softly snore, he went over and took the bat from her, covering her up with a quilt.

"Sweet dreams." Sam gently brushed back a few strands of her hair.

For a brief moment, Sam thought she really did look angelic lying there asleep on the couch. But maybe it was his imagination.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean was back within a week. He immediately went to the hotel, only to find that Sam had checked out days prior. He drove on to Becca's.

Sam answered the door.

"Hey, Sammy."

Sam stepped back, letting his brother into the house. "Becca's at work."

"I figured. What're you doing here?"

"Well." They sat down on the couch. "She caught me sneaking around and then insisted that I stay here instead of just doing stake outs."

That sounded like Becca.

They napped and watched TV until Becca got home at 5:30.

She was thrilled when she pulled into the driveway and saw the Impala. But she didn't want to let her excitement get away from her. She had to remind herself that she was still upset with Dean. No matter how insanely attractive and charming he was.

They ordered pizza for dinner and Becca made a salad. The guys cleaned up afterwards, and Sam made a quick exit upstairs to the study. He knew what was coming.

Becca turned to Dean.

"You put your brother in a very awkward position, Dean," Becca told him. "That wasn't fair to me or to Sam."

Dean felt like a child being reprimanded. It was embarrassing being put in his place. "What am I supposed to do?"

"What did Castiel tell you to do? Let me live my life."

"I thought that's what I was doing."

"Your brother breaking into my house in the middle of the night? How is that letting me live my life, Dean? Listen, things are really weird right now and I just – "

"Woah. Am I getting dumped?"

"What? Dumped?"

"Becca, I'm sorry. This is weird for me too."

"Remember, Castiel told me that I needed to maintain my focus in order to continue to protect and keep Salem safe. And you…" She reached up and adjusted the collar of his button-up over shirt, putting her hands on his chest. "Are _very_ distracting."

"No more stealthy entrances in the middle of the night, okay? That was actually really creepy and I can't believe I thought it was a good idea."

"Thank you."

"But don't leave me feeling helpless. This is what Sam and I do, Becca. Just…let us help you, okay?" He kissed her forehead.

Becca nodded. "Fine." She looked up at him. "But we have to…you know, stop. I apparently have a job to do. I don't mind you spending the night, even sleeping in my bed, but…that's it."

"It's difficult. You're so…"

"_Dean_."

"All right. But I'm not makin' any promises." She could tell he wasn't happy.

"Thank you."

* * *

Sam and Dean met to talk in the study.

"I'm glad you're back. Listen, something's coming. We have to be ready. Weather patterns, electromagnetic fields, the works."

Dean nodded. "You wanna just hunker down here?"

"I think that would be best. Keep her here. Maybe we just need to get through the night, who knows? We'll just have to see."

Becca looked up from her book as they walked by. They were going out the front door.

"Guys?"

The front door slammed.

She got up and followed them.

Dean popped the trunk and supported the lid with a gun.

"Well this escalated quickly. What the hell…" Becca muttered, her eyes scanning the arsenal. She looked up at Dean. "You know I don't allow guns in my home."

"Sorry, sweet pea." Dean grabbed a sawed off shotgun and handed it to Sam. Sam grabbed a few salt shells.

"Dean, I don't even want this in my driveway."

"Didn't you tell me I could protect you? Do you want to live?"

"Dean!" Sam glared at his brother, who was clearly being melodramatic. He turned to her, his voice gentle. "Listen, Becca…. Whatever it is that's coming…"

"Don't talk to her like she's some kid, Sam. Rebecca, you know there's a demon coming, and who the fuck knows what else. Do you understand that?" Dean wasn't happy that he was being forced to show her the ugly and dangerous side of all this. He'd wanted to keep this part from her.

Becca nodded. "Of course I do."

Dean gazed at her with approval. There was something different in those pretty hazel eyes. The mischievous, gentle gleam was gone. He was like a stranger. It scared her. She didn't like it. "See? She's a smart little angel."

"And we don't know what else will come. So we need to be prepared for anything," Sam told her.

"I just…I don't like this at all." She turned and walked towards the house.

"Yeah? Well…neither do I." Dean let the trunk slam shut.

"It surprises me that you're not showing more compassion for her, Dean."

"Guess I'm all out. Don't be a bitch, Sam."

"Please don't bring this into my home." Becca stood in the doorway.

Dean closed his eyes with a sigh. "Listen, you pacifist, will you just let me try and keep you safe?"

"Aren't there other options?"

"Not with you, okay? Now please move."

"She has a point."

"Shut it, Sam."

"I'm not worth it, Dean."

"Don't you _ever_ say that again. Understand me?"

"Why are you so desperate?"

"I am _not_ desperate. But I'm getting pretty pissed, that's for sure. _Move your ass. Now_."

Becca stepped to the side, and Dean brushed by her.

"I'm sorry, Becca." Sam looked at her sadly.

"Thanks, Sam. Just…get inside, okay?"

He nodded and slipped into the house, carrying a duffel bag.


	14. Chapter 14

Hours passed, long and silent.

Becca lay on the couch in the study; her glasses perched on the edge of her nose, re-reading _Ender's Game_. She had Pearl Jam blaring, a definite signal that she was ignoring the Winchesters.

_The waiting drove me mad  
You're finally here and I'm a mess_

Sam lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. It was going to be a long night.

Dean rolled his eyes with a sigh. He got up and stretched. "Welp. I'm leavin'." He grabbed the duffel bag.

Sam stood up. "What? You can't go."

Becca never looked up from her book.

_Everything has chains  
Absolutely nothing's changed_

Sam grabbed his brother by the collar, dragging him out into the hallway. "Now is definitely not the time for some lover's quarrel, Dean! You can't just leave her. Or me."

"Why not? She doesn't even want me here. I'm going out for a drink." Dean slapped him on the shoulder. "See ya, Sammy."

"Dean, wait!"

The front door slammed.

This was ridiculous.

Sam went back into the study and turned off the stereo. Becca had fallen asleep on the couch.

She began to cough and choke.

"Becca?"

"Sam…get it off of me."

"Nothing's on you, Becca. What is it?"

"My chest…"

Sam sniffed the air. Sulfur.

Oh _shit_.

"Becca, open your eyes. Rebecca!"

"I can't. Sam, it hurts and I can't… breathe…"

Sam tried to lift her up off the couch, but she was heavy, as if she weighed a ton. He couldn't budge her.

"Becca, you have to fight it. You can do this."

"It's too much this time. I need… where's Dean…" She let out a sigh and went still.

How in the hell was he going to tell his brother that he'd sat there and watched Becca die?

Moments later, Becca sat up. She blinked her eyes, as if she were seeing the world for the first time.

She stood and threaded her fingers through her hair. "This is nice and soft."

Sam took a step back. "Rebecca…?"

Becca ran her hands over her breasts and down her waist to her hips. "Okay. This feels _amazing_." She looked at Sam. She reached up and ran her fingertips down his cheek and across his jawline.

"What's the matter, Sam? Don't you like me?"

"You know I do." He swallowed nervously.

"Just because your brother got to me first doesn't mean that you can't have me. You want it." Her hand slid across his chest, gently tugging on the neck of his t-shirt. "Don't you?"

Sam closed his eyes, turning his head away from her. His fingers closed around the holy water in his pocket, unscrewing the cap.

"I won't tell anyone, Sam."

In one swift motion, he pulled the flask out and tossed the water at her. Then he grabbed the crucifix from his jacket. She screamed as it hit her, making her skin sizzle. Becca clutched her face, falling to her knees. "You bastard!"

Sam held his crucifix tightly, grabbing Becca by the arm and dragging her thrashing into the hall closet. He threw her into it and slammed the door. He pressed his back against it, sliding down to the floor.

"Sam, come on." Becca slapped her hand against the door. "It's so dark in here."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone.

It rang once.

"Sam?"

"Dean, listen…"

"Don't call him, Sam!" Becca snarled from the other side of the door.

"What was that?"

"Something's inside of her, Dean." He was practically in tears. "Can that happen to an angel? There wasn't even any black smoke. Just a sulfur smell. I tried to help her stop it, but I didn't know what to do…I'm so sorry."

"I'm turning around. Just keep her safe, okay? Sam?"

Sam let the cellphone slide out of his hand and onto the floor.

* * *

Dean punched the brake, making a U-turn in the middle of the road. The Impala's tires squealed as he hit the gas.

He was almost to Becca's when he saw blue lights in his rearview.

"Son of a bitch."

He obediently pulled over, eager to smooth talk his way out of this and hurry on to Becca's house. Opening the glove box, he grabbed a random fake ID from the pile and his registration.

The cop moseyed up, leaning in through the driver's side window.

"Evenin', sir," Dean tried to smile. He handed him the information.

The officer was quiet as he looked everything over.

Something wasn't right. Dean reached for the sawed off shotgun under his seat. Hopefully the salt shot would do the trick.

He looked at the cop again, just in time to see the eyes go black.

Dammit.

Dean pulled the trigger and floored the gas. The cop was hit. He grabbed onto the window frame as Dean sped away. There was a sickening sound of skin meeting asphalt. Dean quickly rolled the window up, trying to get rid of the guy. Finally, the cop let go. Dean watched in his mirror as the body tumbled to the pavement, rolling, before coming to a stop right in the middle of the yellow lines.

Fuckin' Salem, man.


	15. Chapter 15

Sam let out a sigh of relief when he heard the car door slam. The front door opened. He could hear Dean's footsteps getting closer.

"Sam?"

"You brought _him_?" Becca sneered.

Sam stood up, still keeping his back against the door. "In here, Dean."

Dean entered the hallway. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Got pulled over on the way here by a demon cop."

Dean heard the sound of laughter on the other side of the door.

"I'm sorry about this, Dean." Sam looked so sad.

"Me too. Open that window." He began drawing a devil's trap on the floor in front of the closet. "What do you want?"

Silence.

Dean banged his fist on the door. "Talk to me, dammit. What do you want?"

"What's mine," a low voice responded.

"And that is?"

"Nurse."

"She's not Rebecca Nurse."

"She's close enough."

Dean grabbed their father's journal out of the duffel. "Open the door, Sam."

Sam regarded him warily. Dean gave a nod and he turned the knob.

Becca stood there, her arms folded across her chest.

Her blonde hair was tousled from her struggle with Sam, and her eyes were dark. This was definitely not his Becca.

Sam grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the trap. She jerked her arm away from him, putting her hands on her hips.

"Ah, Dean Winchester… the lover boy." Her lips curled into a smile. "You know, I just can't decide if you or Sam is my favorite…"

"Cut the shit," he snapped. "Who are you?"

She dipped her head low. "Sarah Good. John Proctor." Her head tilted back as she smiled with pleasure. "Giles Corey…."

"Those people are long dead."

"And I saw them killed. But one I did not penetrate." Becca shook her head. "Goody Nurse. The old bag. So pious. Nobody would believe. I came to her at night and sat on her. She wouldn't let me in."

"Why are you bothering Rebecca now?"

"I finally made it inside this one. Past an angel of the Lord no less. I brought her bad dreams and memories. And sat on her chest. And then I lay upon her until she gave in to me. So…where is Yofiel now?" She shrugged.

"That's the dreams," Sam spoke up. "Like I told you. They crushed Giles Corey to death. That's when he said that prayer."

"Rebecca belongs to me, Dean."

"You can't have her."

"I'm inside now," she replied angrily. Then smiled. "I finally made it. I guess it just goes to show that if you want something bad enough, you can have it. Right Dean?"

"Shut your fucking mouth."

"You loved it. Nice and tight…just for you."

The demon was fucking with him. Dean wasn't going to fall for it.

His swallowed thickly, tears stinging at his eyes. "It didn't mean a thing."

"You're so full of shit, Winchester." The laugh was deep and throaty. "By the way, you better be careful. Wouldn't want a _baby_, would you?" She put a hand suggestively against her abdomen.

Mary Ruth.

Oh like hell this bitch was bringing that up.

"Hey fuck you."

Becca looked at Sam. "Speaking of which…Samuel, tell him."

"Tell me what?"

"That we fucked."

"Oh come on. She tried to seduce me the second she got up from the couch. That's how I knew she wasn't herself. I'm doing this." Sam held out his hand. Dean passed him the journal.

"She's mine, Dean Winchester."

"Becca's mine," Dean responded coolly. "Start readin', Sammy."

Sam opened the journal and began to recite the words. He tried not to look at Becca, keeping his gaze focused on the page.

"Dean …" She gasped. "It hurts…please…"

"I'm so sorry, Becca," Dean's voice was barely a whisper. There was nothing they could do but wait until Sam was finished. Dean stood there, a pained look on his face, as he helplessly watched Becca struggle in agony.

Finally, Becca collapsed on all fours, vomiting out a large dark cloud. It burst out the open window and into the night. And back to Hell where it belonged.

The hallway became quiet, except for the sound of Becca's gasps. She lifted her head. Her eyes were wide with fear.

Sam closed the journal, relieved. Dean couldn't get to her fast enough.

"Wait, please," she told him. Her voice sounded a bit different. Still sweet and calm, but not as melodic.

Dean realized he was looking at just Dr. Rebecca Nourse.

"Rebecca?"

"Hello, Dean." She smiled. "Just…wait. Yofiel will come back. And I'll let her in. Don't worry." She sounded sad.

"Are you all right?" He reached out and touched her cheek.

She nodded. Before he could think, her lips were on his. She tasted like brimstone.

"I love you so much," her voice was barely a whisper against his mouth.

"Rebecca..." He suddenly felt that he had so many things to say to her. He pulled her into his arms.

"Rebecca Nurse was the only person the demon couldn't get into. And the Nurse family knew that. Yofiel knew that," Sam told her. "They were such good people. The demon couldn't get past all that strength. That's why the family lived like they did, with devoutness and purity."

"Sam – "

"No, Dean, I need to hear this." Becca lifted her head and looked up at Sam. "They were protecting Yofiel?"

Sam shook his head. "No. Yofiel was protecting them. And when we showed up, the demon knew it didn't have a chance. That's when it began to try harder than ever."

That's what Dean didn't want Sam to say. That him showing up in Becca's life had brought harm to her. He gave his brother a look.

"Are you done, Sam?" He snapped, holding her selfishly against him.

Sam nodded. "I need some air." He exited the house without another word.

Dean looked down at her. "Becca, I never should've stopped that day."

The words were like a slap in the face.

"Please don't say that."

"It's true," Dean told her. "If we'd never met, you'd still be living your safe, normal life."

"Yes, but would I really be happy?"

Their faces were inches apart.

"I would kill for you." Dean's hazel eyes twinkled with tears. "I would rip to shreds anything that stood in my way, keeping me from you. I know I joked about it before, but do you understand how much it actually scares me?"

"No."

"It's a constant ache in my chest."

Becca blinked a few times as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"I'm fucked up, Becca. I am empty, and I am completely broken. I've felt overwhelming sadness and complete rage. Feared for my life, and for my brother's. I've been to hell and back. But I've never, ever felt this way. This is a total whirlwind that I've gotten caught up in. It's been way too damn fast for my liking, but it's so easy with you. You're so beautiful and pure and sweet. And the way you treat me...nobody has ever been this good to me. You're probably the first person to know everything about me. I've stripped myself completely bare to you." Dean took a deep breath. "Because I love you, Rebecca, dammit. And there's this strange part of me that thinks I always have, even before I knew you existed. Even if I hadn't stopped the car that day, I think we somehow would've come together, because we were supposed to. Even if I can't be with you, I was meant to have you and love you."

The silence filled the air.

Dean reached out and touched her cheek. "Sweetheart, please say something."

"I'm not sure where to begin." Becca gave a little shrug. "The past few weeks, the past few months, I dunno…years, maybe. They've been so weird. I always felt like something was coming. And then you show up in my yard. With your brother, who's the sweetest guy ever. And you." She looked up at Dean. "You are not what I expected. That car and those weapons in the trunk. Castiel. What scares me is that I like it. The thought of you killing someone for me turns me on. And the sadness that's in your heart makes mine break. You don't deserve this. You or Sam. You deserve peace, and all the love in the world. And there is so much peace and love in this world for you, Dean. You're beautiful, inside and out. You're funny. You're selfless and way smarter than you give yourself credit for. You're responsible and you have more integrity and loyalty than I could ever hope to possess in my pinky finger. And most of all, you make me feel safe. You're gentle and kind and careful with me. The way you've taken care of me these past few weeks has shown me that I do love you, Dean, very much." She stared at her feet. "I think that might be the dumbest thing I've ever said."

He had to remind himself that this was one hundred percent Becca telling him this.

"Why is it the sweetest thing I've ever heard?" Dean tilted her chin up, catching his lips in hers. "With the demon gone, it's time for me and Sam to leave. And Yofiel will come back. But I'm not ready yet."

"I haven't got much time." Becca pressed her face into his cheek as the tears came again. "I don't want her to come back yet either."

"I know, sweetheart."

Suddenly, there was a glow. Yofiel was back with Becca.

And there was a part of him that was very disappointed.


	16. Chapter 16

Becca's eyes fluttered open and gazed at her alarm clock.

It was 9 AM.

And she was alone.

She shot up in bed, panicking. He wouldn't just leave her without saying goodbye, would he? But maybe that was easier for him.

She threw on a t-shirt and a pair of yoga capri pants, heading downstairs.

"Dean?"

She smiled as she heard "Ramble On" by Led Zeppelin blasting outside. How fitting.

His legs were sticking out from underneath the Impala. The hood was popped.

Folding her arms across her chest, Becca stood there and watched him until he scooted out from under the car.

"Mornin', sweetheart," Dean greeted with a smile, smacking away on a piece of gum.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Changing the oil. I changed yours too."

"Thank you. I can't remember the last time I got my oil changed."

"I could tell." Dean made a face, sliding back under the car.

"Hey, you want breakfast? What about Sam?"

"Hang on. I'm almost done."

"Sure." Becca sat down on the pavement, watching him work.

Finally, Dean scooted out from under the Impala and sat up. He looked incredibly sexy to her, with black streaks across his cheeks and hands.

She suddenly wanted to grab him and beg him not to leave. To try and get him to see how right it was him being there in her driveway, changing the oil in their cars. How she wanted to fall asleep beside him every night and wake up with him every morning. Tell him how much he deserved a sense of normalcy in his life, and that she could give it to him.

But he didn't want it. No, scratch that. He couldn't want it, couldn't have it.

They just sat there, looking at each other, while Dean smacked away on that damn piece of gum.

"So…breakfast," He finally spoke, shaking his head to dismiss his thoughts. "Uh, yeah, that sounds good. I was gonna go get Sammy. I need a shower too."

"Why don't I go get Sam for you while you shower? We'll all have breakfast together."

"I'd appreciate that, Becca."

"Let me just grab my keys." She turned to go.

Dean grabbed her by the arm, pulling her around to face him. "Hey." His lips caught hers gently. Those hazel eyes stared down at her. "Did I tell you that I love you yet this morning?"

"I have a feeling it isn't something you say often."

"I'll only say it if I mean it. And I won't say it too much, so it doesn't lose any importance. Thank you for loving me. And for loving my brother."

"You don't have to thank me," Becca told him, reaching up and rubbing his shoulders. He seemed to enjoy that, rolling his neck a little. "I'm not doing you any favors, and I don't expect any from you. You know what I mean? What we have, whatever it is…I love it." She smiled and headed into the house.

Dean kept his eyes on her cute little bare feet, those tanned, flawless thighs and calves, those hips. And especially that sweet, perky ass. There was no way he could let this go.

* * *

"Okay, Sam. You have to help me with this."

"I've got you, Becca." Sam put an arm around her. His face was serious.

She looked up at him worriedly.

"You can do this, okay?"

Becca nodded, taking deep breath. "There's just…so many choices."

"It can be overwhelming, yes."

"I don't think I can decide. Why don't you do it?"

Sam shrugged and reached out, grabbing a random package of bacon.

"Is it organic?"

"I think so," he lied.

"Will he like that kind?"

"Becca, it's Dean. He'll eat anything."

* * *

Dean heard Becca laughing as he stepped out of the shower.

"What we have in mind is breakfast in bed for 400,000!"

Oh his god damn hippie. He was definitely going to miss this.

Sam laughed, and Dean's heart sank. The past few weeks had been hard, but they'd been the most normal they could remember having in a long time.

And then he smelled something very familiar. It was definitely out of place at Becca's.

Dean quickly threw on a shirt and a pair of jeans and made a beeline for the kitchen.

"I smell meat in this house."

Becca looked up from the cast iron skillet. Sam was sitting at the bar, drinking a glass of orange juice.

"I made it all by myself," she told him proudly.

Dean came over and grabbed a very crispy, nearly burnt piece of bacon from the paper towel covered plate. Bless her, she'd tried.

He put an arm around her. "You're the best, Becca." He planted a greasy kiss on her cheek.

They ate breakfast in comfortable silence. Sam and Dean ate every piece of the well-well-done bacon.


	17. Chapter 17

Sam double checked that everything was loaded up, and then shut the doors of the Impala. Becca had washed and folded what few pieces of clothing he and Dean had. She'd even stocked them up on toiletries, and made sure they had healthy snacks and lots of electrolyte balanced water. Sam laughed while watching his brother graciously accept the healthy vegan and organic snacks. Dr. Rebecca Nourse was definitely not just another notch in his brother's bed post.

Dean Winchester was a whipped man.

He'd already said his goodbyes to Becca, and now it was Dean's turn. He got in the passenger seat to wait; grabbing the huge novel Becca had given him, something about Atlas shrugging and trains. Becca told him the speeches were "epic" and pages and pages long. He opened it to the first chapter and began reading. He didn't know how long their goodbyes would take. Or who in the hell John Galt was.

Dean opened the front door and stuck his head in. "Becca?"

"In here."

He found her in the parlor on the couch. He went over and lowered himself down on top of her.

"Hey." Dean cupped her cheeks. She closed her eyes, trying to absorb how his hands felt on her skin. She put her face into his neck, inhaling his scent with a sigh. Spicy deodorant, shaving cream, gas from filling the tank. The librarian in her was archiving everything about him to store up for later. Her hands slipped underneath his shirt and roamed his chest and his back. She gripped the scar on his shoulder.

He kissed away the tears from her eyelashes, brushing his lips against her cheeks, the adorable tip of her nose, and then her lips. "I don't want to leave you. You need to know that." He put his forehead against hers. His hands were at her waist now, trying to memorize the shape of her and the feel of her curves against him.

Becca sniffled. "I know. I'm just being melodramatic."

"I don't know when, but I'll come back," he vowed. "Look at me, Becca."

Their eyes met.

"I will come back to you, do you understand? I shouldn't ask you, but –"

"You know I'll wait for you, Dean."

"Now stand up. I don't want to remember you like this." Dean got up, pulling her against him. At that moment, she'd never felt so small.

God, he was dragging this out. He just wasn't ready. He didn't want to do this. But he had to keep moving.

Becca straightened out the collar of his jacket. "Please take care of yourself." She put her palms against his chest, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"I will."

"Don't give up."

"I never do."

"And if you don't get in touch with me, it's okay. I understand."

"I'll try, all right?"

They hugged, and Dean kissed the top of her head.

He sighed into her hair. "I have to go, sweetheart."

Becca nodded, pressing her lips together.

He put a hand at the nape of her neck, pulling her into his lips for one last, sweet kiss.

"I love you, Dean."

"I love you, Becca."

And then the front door shut softly. He was gone.

* * *

They rode in silence.

"Do you want to talk?" Sam asked, as they crossed into New York.

"Nope."

When they hit Ohio, they pulled into a hotel. After taking a cold shower, Dean unzipped his suitcase to grab a fresh pair of boxers and razor.

There, folded neatly on top of his clothes, was a very familiar little pair of white bikini panties. Along with an adorable picture of Becca making a heart shape with her fingertips. He sighed, folding the panties back up and tucking them way down into his suitcase. The photograph he took and put in his wallet. He couldn't help but grin as he was shaving. He wondered when Becca would find what he'd left for her.

* * *

Becca pulled open her drawer to pick out clothes for work in the morning.

There inside was a white undershirt and a pair of boxers, along with a note scrawled in very boyish handwriting.

_Dr. Nourse –_

_Do these look familiar to you? They should. You took them off me the night I popped your cherry. _

Becca covered her mouth in shock. God he was crude. And she loved it.

_And no, I did not give them to you to wash. So they're still the same. Wear them just like they are._

_I figured since you'd taken them off of me, they can be yours now. I'm sure you'll put them to good use. I can only imagine how perfect they'll look on you._

_You're the best thing, you god damn hippie. __You're my girl.__ Don't ever forget it. _

_Stay sweet. I'll see you soon._

_Love, Dean._

There was a sticky note attached, with SAM LOVES BECCA XOXX and some doodles.

Becca set down the letter and took off her tank top. She put on the t-shirt and boxers, Dean's scent all around her. She crawled into bed and curled up underneath the covers.

And for the first time in a long time, Yofiel did not dream.


	18. Chapter 18

There was only one thing in her mailbox at work.

GREETINGS FROM OREGON

She recognized the handwriting immediately. Another postcard from Dean.

_Becca –  
This postcard is all Oregon has to offer anyone. Do you miss me yet?  
Love,_  
_D.W._

She stuck the postcard onto the corkboard in her office, along with the others he'd sent her.

HAWAII

_Just kidding. Found it at a truck stop in Idaho.  
- Dean_

LOUISIANA

_Rebecca –  
These big fat mosquitos are carrying me away. I told them to drop me off at your place. _  
_Leave me a key under the Welcome mat._  
_Love,  
D.W._

MINNESOTA

_Becca – _  
_My balls are freezing. Made me think of you. _  
_Doncha know?  
Love,_  
_Dean._

And the one that meant the most…

MASSACHUSETTS

_Dr. Rebecca Nourse – _  
_You looked so beautiful in that little yellow dress. _  
_Chin up for me. I'll see you real soon, sweetheart._  
_I love you._  
_- __Dean__.  
_

* * *

Sam's eyes scanned over the main page of the Salem newspaper's website. He'd taken it upon himself, unbeknownst to his brother, to keep tabs on the happenings in Salem.

Front and center on the page was a color photograph of Becca sitting outside of the library.

"DOCTOR NOURSE TRAVELS TO VATICAN" the headline read.

Becca was leaving to Rome in a week or so to assist head librarian, Archbishop Dominic Barberini, in archival endeavors within the Vatican Library. There was also a link directing the reader to an interview snippet. Sam clicked on it. A part of him really wanted to hear her kind, calming voice. He missed her too.

She was standing in front of her office door. He noticed that she was missing her glasses.

"Oh I'm very excited at this opportunity! I've never left the country before, so I'm really looking forward to that. The Vatican archives contain an overwhelming amount of information and history. There's just so much there. His Excellency Barberini has been so friendly and welcoming. I cannot wait to finally meet him and get started. It's such an honor."

Dean was in the bathroom flossing his teeth when he could've sworn he heard Becca's voice.

And then he heard that unmistakable laugh. His heart flip-flopped.

What the_ hell._

Dean dropped the floss and swung open the door. "Sam?"

Sam looked up from the laptop. "Yeah?"

"What are you doing?" He strode over to the desk and looked at the screen. "What is this?"

"It's an interview with Becca. She's going to the Vatican to help out with archiving and stuff in the library there."

Sam brought up the photograph and the article.

Becca looked amazing in her flowing outfit, with a purple floral blouse and multiple bracelets. Her blonde hair had gotten a little longer, but those baby blue eyes were still the same.

"You wanna see the video?"

"I do."

Dean stood behind his brother, arms folded across his bare chest.

There was his Rebecca. Her eyes twinkled with excitement. Even though Dean honestly found the prospect of going to the Vatican archives extremely snooze worthy, it was Becca's passion. And that made it incredibly interesting to him.

The video was just around a minute long. After it ended, Dean immediately wanted to watch it again and again. He wished for smell-o-vision so he could breathe in her sandalwood fragrance.

"I miss her, Sammy." His voice was almost inaudible.

"I miss her, too. But it looks like she's doing okay, Dean."

"Yep." Dean scratched his head and went back into the bathroom. The door slammed shut.

He dreamed that night. That he lifted Mary Ruth out of her bassinet, cradling her gently in his arms. She gripped his finger tightly. He leaned down, reverently touching his forehead to hers. Those hazel eyes gazed up at him. And she smiled.

* * *

"Your Excellency, I have a few questions. About possession."

"Possession? What would make you think of that?"

"Because I believe I have been possessed."

The Archbishop crossed himself. "Sit, Rebecca." His accent was thick. "Tell me everything."

Becca poured herself out to this man of God. The Archbishop knew she was an angel from the second he'd set eyes on her, so she wasn't afraid to bare herself to him. She started at the beginning, way back at the Salem witch trials, and ending with her possession. She even told him about Sam and Dean.

"Winchester?"

"You know them?"

"They work diligently."

Becca nodded. "They saved my life."

"They are good allies for an angel, or anyone else to have, Rebecca. But their work is dangerous. There are no guarantees for them."

"I know that full well, Your Excellency. So..." She was eager to change the subject. "Do I need to, you know, say any Hail Marys or anything?"

Archbishop Barberini smiled. "For you? Just a hug from an old man will suffice."

The two hugged and got back to work.

* * *

Becca was in Italy for a total of 8 months. She threw herself into her job and the time passed by quicker than she'd anticipated. The Archbishop was wonderful, and Becca learned so much from him, both religion and archiving.

On her last day, the Archbishop took her out for lunch. When they returned, a black Mercedes was waiting to take her to the airport.

"Rebecca, you are a precious gift from God. I would like for you to have this." He put a necklace over her head. There was a silver medal on it, as well as a cross.

"This medal is one of the oldest and most honored medals used by Catholics due to the belief in its power against evil. It is also known as the 'devil-chasing medal'. It is Saint Benedict," the Archbishop told her. "Benedict of Nursia." He chuckled at the coincidence of the Saint's birth location and her last name. "I have two more for the Winchesters. All three have been blessed by someone very...special."

Becca's lips parted with wonder as she picked up the medal around her neck. The Pope had touched this. The Pope had blessed this. For her. For Dean and Sam.

"Please take care of yourself."

"Thank you, Your Excellency, for asking me to come here. It was an honor to help you. And this experience...just...thank you." Becca didn't know what else to say. She was overwhelmed.

"Angel, you are welcome. We accomplished a great deal."

They hugged, and then the Archbishop lifted his hands over her to pray. Becca pressed her palms together and closed her eyes. As she began to softly glow, the Archbishop smiled and closed his eyes.

She felt weightless as the holy man's words poured over her.

"Admirable Saint and Doctor of Humility, you practiced what you taught, assiduously praying for God's glory and lovingly fulfilling all work for God and the benefit of all human beings. Guard Rebecca and her friends against poisoning of the body as well as of mind and soul, and thus be truly a Blessed one for them. O most powerful Saint Benedict, do not let them lose their souls, but obtain for them the grace of winning their way to heaven. Amen."

"Amen," Becca whispered.

The two hugged again. "Now be on your way. And God go with you."


	19. Chapter 19

There was a knock on her door. She somehow instinctively knew it was Castiel.

He gave her a little smile as she opened the door. "Hello, Rebecca."

"Hey you! Come inside. May I have a hug?"

Castiel stepped forward uncertainly. When she squeezed him tight, he relaxed and put his arms around her.

"How was Italy?" He asked as he pulled away.

"It was great. Make yourself at home. Would you like anything?"

He shook his head, walking around the house and taking everything in. "I cannot stay. I just wanted to stop by and check on you. Dean is…" He was debating with himself. "He said it was not my place to tell you what he is doing."

"Don't worry about it, Castiel. I appreciate you coming by. It's good to see you."

"Yes. Have you heard… anything?"

"It's been quiet."

"Not too quiet, I hope?"

"No. Just very peaceful."

Castiel turned to her. "Would you sing?"

Becca sat down on the couch and patted the place beside her. He nervously went over. She reached up and stroked his thick, dark hair soothingly. Castiel immediately relaxed, leaning over and putting his head into her lap.

"Your form is so comforting to me."

Becca laughed and began to sing "Somewhere over the Rainbow."

"I missed your chorus." Castiel was almost asleep when Becca heard him murmur. "I see why Dean loves you so much."

It wasn't long before Becca fell asleep against Castiel. When she awoke the next morning, she was alone and covered in a blanket.

* * *

Dean walked out of the bathroom in his boxers, a towel draped around his neck.

"Your phone went off," Sam told him, his nose buried in the Atlas book.

It was a voice message from Cas.

"Hello, Dean. I went to Rebecca's home. She is doing well. Her flowers are blooming. Big white roses. I have a picture that I took of her with the camera in the phone. I think I will try to send it to you. Okay…now end the call…." A few numbers were dialed before the message ended.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed again.

It was a picture of Becca bent down beside a beautiful white rose. She looked so happy, gazing up into the camera. Her pretty little white teeth, her dimples. He couldn't stop looking at the picture. God, he missed her. He couldn't stay away from her any longer. It was driving him nuts, especially now that she was merely hours away.

"Hey Sam? Would be it be okay if I went out to Salem?"

Sam looked over the top of his book. "Yeah, dude. I'll come out in a few days, maybe? I dunno how I'll get there, but whatever. All I want to do is read this."

"Again? You're such a dork, man."

"Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean laughed, grabbing out a shirt and jeans. He balled up the rest of his clothes and zipped his suitcase. It was time to pay his crunchy librarian a long-awaited visit.

* * *

Becca felt herself start to doze. She closed _The Weight of Water_. Her Butch Walker CD had long finished, so she turned off the stereo.

She shut off lights as she made her way to the stairs. She missed Dean terribly tonight, and had decided to wear his t-shirt and boxers to bed.

There was a knock at the door. Who would be out at this hour? She didn't pick up on Castiel's presence like she did when he came by a few nights ago.

Her hand impulsively went to her medal. She reached out and opened the door.

It was Dean, his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he awkwardly stood on her doorstep.

"Dean…"

He cupped Becca's face in his hands, pulling her shakily into his lips.

She backed into the house. He kicked the door shut behind him with his boot, never breaking the kiss.

Becca ran trembling hands all over him. It had been too long. What, over a year? 14 months?

"Look at you." Dean held her out at arm's length, looking her up and down. "You look amazing. And nice pj's."

"Thanks."

There was a clench in his abdomen as Becca gave a little blush and smiled coyly.

They looked at each other.

"So how was the Vatican?"

She smiled. "You heard?"

"I did. I'm real proud of you, sweetheart."

"Thank you. It was absolutely amazing, Dean. It's one of the best collections in the world."

"And what's this?" Dean reached out and picked up the medal. "St. Benedict?"

"The Archbishop gave it to me."

"Why?"

"For protection."

"I know what it's for, but why he did give to you? Did you tell him?"

"I did."

Dean sighed.

"He knew about _me_ already, Dean. And this medal was blessed by the Pope himself. His Excellency gave me two more medals as well. For you and Sam."

Dean made a face. "So, what, you're a Catholic now? How does that work?"

"No, of course not, Dean..."

"I'm sorry. I'm just...it's nerves. It's really good to see you, Becca."

"Don't worry about it."

"Did you get my postcards?"

Becca nodded. "They're all on a bulletin board at work."

"And are you seeing anyone?" Dean asked quietly.

"Dean..."

"I have to hear it, Becca."

"There can't be anyone else. You know that."

"Just me?"

"Just you."

"Good." His smile was primal and arrogant.

"Come. Let's sit." She headed into the parlor.

He took off his shoes and followed her. They sat down on the couch and faced each other.

"You look great, Dean." Becca reached over and ran her fingers through his hair. "How are things?"

"They're fine. It's just me in town. I, uh…I took a break. Needed some time, you know."

"I understand. I'm really glad you're here."

He nodded. "I needed you, Becca. I mean, I needed to see you. Damn. I missed you. You going off like that kind of worried me, I'm not gonna lie." He was babbling like an idiot.

Becca didn't seem to notice or care. "I wouldn't have gone if I felt there was a risk," she assured him. "And besides, I went to the Vatican. I'd like to think I, of all people, would be pretty safe there."

"I wouldn't have been able to protect you all the way in Italy."

"I don't need protecting."

"You know I think you do."

"Castiel came by a few nights ago."

"Did he now…."

"He wanted to check on me and hear me sing. It was really sweet actually. I like being with him. It makes me feel…I don't know. It feels good."

"I'm glad." Dean reached out, touching her hair. "Where are your glasses?"

"I finally gave in and got Lasik."

"And you look..." he couldn't find the right words.

"About 30 pounds lighter? I went raw while in Italy and dropped the weight."

"I missed you, Rebecca."

"You said that already."

He cupped her cheek. "Well I'm saying it again." He ran his thumb across her lips before kissing her.

* * *

When Becca opened her eyes the next morning, she felt Dean's strong arms around her. Last night hadn't been a dream. He was really here after all.

She rolled over to face him. He was still asleep, those pretty lashes shutting out the world. She wondered if he was dreaming. His features were soft and relaxed, making him look much younger. He'd probably always been a heartbreaker. She could almost see the mischievous little boy that still dwelled somewhere beneath the surface, waiting impatiently to make an appearance. And he often did. Dean Winchester was a 5 year old trapped inside an absurdly handsome man's body. He'd been out doing god only knows what for the past year, but checked all of that baggage at the front porch. He so cautiously and carefully tried to keep her safe and separate from the dangerous work he and his brother did.

Becca leaned down and kissed Dean's slightly parted lips.

He stirred, and opened one eye to look at her, the corner of his mouth turning up into a lazy, sexy smile. "Mornin', sweetheart."

He'd been dreaming about her. They were on the couch in the study. He'd had his hands on her pregnant belly. He remembered the pride he'd felt, knowing he'd been the one to knock her up. She was the sexiest pregnant woman he'd ever seen.

"Do you want breakfast?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. I need to work up an appetite."

* * *

Finally, Dean rolled away from her onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

Becca glanced over at the clock. Half an hour had passed.

"Okay, _now_ I'm ready for breakfast!" He looked down at her. "You want to shower and then go somewhere?"

"I'd love to."

Dean stood, grabbing her hand. "Come on. I'm a mean back scrubber."

He used entirely too much shampoo on her hair, but Becca didn't complain. His hands were gentle and his fingers massaged her scalp perfectly. He even shielded her eyes while she rinsed her hair out so she wouldn't get shampoo in them. It was obvious he'd showered with a woman before.

"So let me tell you something about this soap." Dean picked up the white Ivory bar. He lathered up her purple washcloth. "This shit is horrible."

"Awh no! I love my Ivory! It's green and it's cheap."

Dean made the motion for her to turn around, and began scrubbing her back.

Comfortable silence. Becca sighed happily.

She turned to face him. He gently ran the washcloth across her flat stomach, remembering the dream.

After she was squeaky clean, she smiled. "Is it your turn?"

"Yes ma'am."

Becca couldn't wait to get her soapy hands all over Dean's body.

She lovingly washed his hair, her fingernails gently scrubbing his scalp. They both laughed at the sudsy mohawk she gave him. When she grabbed the soap but didn't reach for his washcloth, Dean shot her a curious look.

"I want to use my hands."

Holy shit.

He could only nod as ran her soapy hands across his shoulders. Down his arms. She even washed his hands and in between his fingers. Back up and under his arms, to his neck, and then his chest. She carefully took her time across the tattoo and his scar. Becca's hands massaged the muscles that ached from the job he and his brother did. After washing his back, it was time for his thighs and his legs. She looked up at him. Dean's eyes were closed. Water droplets were slowly ran down his face and cheeks, dripping off his eyelashes. He was completely relaxed.

She couldn't help but smile as she ran a hand across his abdomen to his thighs.

Dean was a complete gentleman in the shower. He never grabbed for her and only gave a few sighs of pleasure as she massaged him. Finally, when the hot water was gone, he turned off the water and stepped out. "Wait."

He wrapped a towel around his waist and grabbed another towel for Becca.

"Here, sweetheart."

She stepped out and he wrapped the towel around her, pulling her up against him and rubbing her shoulders to warm her up. He kissed her lips gently. "That's the best shower I've ever had."

"Me too."

While they were getting dressed, Becca came over to him. She handed him the necklace. "Will you at least take it? You don't have to wear it."

"I'll take the medal and keep it in my wallet. I'll put it with your picture. How's that?"

That satisfied her. "Thank you."


	20. Chapter 20

"So does this count as a date?" Dean asked, as he opened the passenger door for Becca.

"I don't know, are we dating?"

"Are we?" He countered.

Becca shrugged. "Well…this would be date number two. Technically we've…you know… had sex more times than that…"

"So we're lovers?" Dean looked over at her.

"Is it wrong that I really like how that sounds when you say it?"

"No, because I really like to say it."

Becca scooted over close to Dean. His hand instinctively went to her thigh as he backed out of the driveway.

* * *

They were almost done with breakfast when Dean's phone went off. It was Sam.

"Sammy!"

"I know I said I'd give you a few days, but I don't think that's gonna happen."

"Why, what's up?" Dean signaled for the check.

"Castiel just dropped in. And he's…"

"I am in a mood!" The angel yelled in the background.

Dean chuckled. "Okay. I heard that."

"Yeah, so…we're on our way."

"I understand. Just meet us at Becca's?"

"Yep. See you."

"Bye, dude."

Dean looked across the table at Becca. "Looks like Sam and Castiel are coming to visit."

* * *

Dean's phone went off.

_Outside._

He snapped his phone shut, lifting Becca's legs off his lap. "I'm gonna go help Sam and Cas, okay?" Dean stood up.

"Sure." Becca looked up from her Epictetus and smiled.

Dean quickly went out the front door. Sam and Castiel were standing in the driveway.

"Salem may have staved off the witchcraft wanna be demon, but apparently, there's a new kid in town. Well…back in town, I guess?" Sam told his brother. "Metatron."

"Are you serious? Son of a bitch." Dean sighed. "What's going on?"

"He's come for her Grace." The frustration in Castiel's voice was obvious. "I can't keep her hidden anymore. It's serious this time."

"We think he's at the library." Sam added.

Dean's heart sank.

"And let me guess, I have to tell her?" His smile was not a happy one.

"That would be ideal," Castiel told him.

Dean rubbed his mouth with his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. "All right. Just… come inside for now, okay?" He looked at Castiel. "And keep your mouth shut."

Castiel gave a nod.

"Dr. Nourse!" Dean called as they entered the house. "You have company."

"Guys!" She was in the doorway of the foyer.

"Hey Becca." Sam immediately went over, grabbing her up into a hug. "You look great."

"Thanks! Hey, did you get taller?" Becca tilted her head up at him. He blushed and she hugged him again.

"Castiel." Becca took one of his hands into hers. "How are you?"

Their eyes met and held. "I'm well, Rebecca."

Suddenly, Castiel pulled her into his arms. "You are the sweetest angel there ever was. Please do not ever change, Rebecca. And do not leave. This town needs you."

"I won't, Castiel," she rubbed his back affectionately. "You don't change either."

He nodded and stepped back, looking at Dean, who was giving him daggers.

"You guys want coffee?" Becca offered.

"Do you still have some of the apple cider you make in that Keurig thing?" Sam asked as they headed into the kitchen.

"I do! It's good, isn't it? It makes it hot, but you can serve it cold, too."

"Awesome. Sounds good."

"Do you have any brownies?" Castiel wanted to know.

Becca smiled as she plugged in the Keurig. "I might be able to bake something up."

Dean had yet to really speak. He was too busy trying to figure out how in the hell he was going to tell Becca that her beloved library had been taken over by the Scribe of God.

* * *

Dean was standing outside on the deck, looking up at the stars in the sky. And the line of trees at the back of Becca's property line.

He felt Sam come up beside him.

"How are things?"

"You mean with Becca? They're…amazing. It's comfortable, and there's no pressure. I don't feel like I need to do anything, or be something. It's everything I've dreamed of, Sam. She's…." Dean couldn't help but smile at his words. "She's an angel."

"How are you going to tell her about Metatron and the library?"

"What a bastard. Angels are such dicks, man." Dean shook his head. "You know he's doing that just to piss her off." He chuckled. "I bet she's sexy when she's real pissed."

"Well, I think you should tell her sooner than later. It's the weekend, so the library is closed. But you can't hold off until Monday, dude. She'll have to go to work then, and the library will be open to the public. It won't be safe." Sam's voice softened. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Thanks Sammy."

Dean turned and looked through the french glass doors. Becca and Castiel were sitting at the bar, eating brownies. Sam joined them, grabbing a brownie off the plate and popping it into his mouth. They were talking and laughing with one another. Well, if whatever Castiel was doing could be considered laughter.

He caught Becca's eye and she motioned for him to come inside and join them.

* * *

Dean dramatically gathered everyone in the parlor.

"I have a serious announcement."

Okay, so maybe he was a little bit stoned and overreacting.

No matter.

Three faces looked at him expectantly.

Dean couldn't figure out a way to sugar coat it.

"Metatron is in Salem, Becca," he told her softly. "He's at the library."

"The library?" Becca was devastated. "That's…that library's my life."

"He knows that," Sam told her. "That's why he's there."

"Well what does he want?" Becca questioned.

The room fell silent. The guys suddenly became very interested in the floor.

Becca trembled as the realization sank in. "He wants me." Her voice was almost inaudible. She leaned over, her face in her hands. "Oh my god."

"Listen." Sam put an arm around her. "We're gonna go to the library and we'll banish him. But we need your help, okay?"

Becca nodded. "Let's just go right now. I'm ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

Sam looked over at Dean.

"Well, let's go." Dean went to grab his keys.


	21. Chapter 21

_I posted a few chapters out of order. My apologies for that. I think it's fixed. Thanks! _

* * *

"Now isn't that lovely," Castiel muttered as they approached the library entrance.

There was a warding sigil on the front door, to keep angels from entering. Other sigils were scattered throughout the outer walls off the brick building.

"Metatron!" He called out. "Yofiel is here with me. She has come to see you."

Silence.

"I'll go check around back." Sam checked his gun before jogging off. Castiel followed him.

"He's not gonna do this the easy way, is he," Dean commented.

"Of course not. He's a bastard," Becca's voice was full of exasperation.

Dean looked down at Becca, an amused look on his face. "Are you in angel mode right now?"

She stared right back at him. "I might be."

"It's pretty sexy."

"Thank you." There was no sense of humor in her eyes, no smile upon her lips. She had her game face on.

Sam and Castiel came back around the other side of the building.

"Every door, every window. It's angel proof."

"Oh bullshit." Dean went over to the Impala. He popped the trunk and grabbed a sledgehammer.

"Stop." Becca held up her hand as he pulled back to take a swing. "I just remembered. He can erase these things. He's blocking me out. These are for me. This is…just for spite. To get under my skin." She put her hands on her hips. "And it's working."

"So where would the Scribe of God be…?" Sam murmured thoughtfully.

Becca snapped her fingers. "There's an old book store over on Essex. It's got some pretty crazy stuff in its stacks. It's barely 8 o'clock now, and it's open late on weekends."

"Can't hurt to take a look."

* * *

The second the Impala pulled into the parking lot, Becca spoke.

"He's here."

Yep. She was definitely in angel mode.

They had barely shut their doors when they heard a voice behind them.

"Well hello."

She turned, resting her eyes on her former companion. His vessel was an older man, unshaven and unkempt, clothes baggy and just a bit too big for him. He looked like the bookworm that he was.

"Enoch, I've come here to ask you to remove the warding sigils from the library." Her voice was calm and even.

"You did a good job on that library, Jophiel."

"Thank you."

"Enoch? Jophiel?" Sam whispered to Castiel.

"Esoteric Jewish apocrypha and Cabalistic lore. They're sparring with each other."

"Gotcha."

Metatron and Becca stepped closer to one other.

Dean made a move, but Castiel grabbed him by the arm. "Don't. It is not wise. And she's a grown up."

"Remove the sigils, please," Becca repeated. "I won't ask you again."

"I wasn't trying to make this difficult for you."

"Difficult? I'll get fired from my job if I can't even set foot in the building I work in."

Metatron circled her slowly, his eyes roaming over her body, taking her in. "I like this vessel."

"Look but don't touch, buddy," Dean snapped.

The Scribe looked over at the eldest Winchester, a bored look on his face.

"You're looking well yourself," Becca responded pleasantly. "Let's stick with the subject here."

"How badly do you want those sigils removed?"

Becca laughed. "It doesn't matter to me. However, I do have bills to pay, so I'd like to keep my job."

"You have no emotional attachment to that library?"

She looked him right in the eye. "Not at all."

"You're a terrible liar, Yofiel. But I'll remove the sigils." Metatron shrugged. "I don't like to see you upset."

"Thank you." She folded her arms across her chest. "I'll wait here until it's done."

Metatron sighed dramatically, walked off into the night, and disappeared.

Castiel was amazed at the power Yofiel seemed to have over the Scribe.

Minutes passed. She still stood there, arms folded, waiting.

Finally, he trudged back up to her.

"Thank you. If I find out that you're lying…"

"I'm not lying to you, Yofiel," his voice had a hint of sadness to it. "They're gone. You can go back to work on Monday."

"Then you can go back into the bookstore," Becca told him, turning her back on him.

Their conversation was finished.

He was pissed.

The bell on the door chimed, signaling that Metatron had gone into the bookstore.

Castiel grabbed Becca and pulled her into the alley by the building.

"We're still doing this. Come, Rebecca, we don't have much time."

"Don't make me do it. Please, Castiel. He removed the wardings, just like I asked. And it's been so long since I've done this."

"Well do you have a blade?" Castiel asked pointedly.

A look of confusion came across her face. "No...?"

Castiel cut himself. "Then we must do it this way." He handed the knife to her and began to draw his sigil. "Hurry. We'll do it together. Hopefully, it will work without any complications."

Becca's shaky hand took the knife from Castiel. Sam held Dean back. When she dragged the blade across her skin, he had to turn his head away. He couldn't watch her do this.

Tears spilled from her eyes, but her face was solemn and serious. Becca wiped her bloody hand on the brick wall, drawing her own sigil.

Castiel looked at Dean and Sam. "I don't know how this will go. It will probably be very powerful."

Becca and Castiel's eyes met. They both put their palms against their respective sigils.

Castiel was right. It was powerful. Too much so. It was destructive.

The entire area flashed white. The bulbs of the streetlights sparked and burst. The roof blasted off, the walls crumbled. People fell away. The four of them ducked as the building collapsed around them.

Becca's knees gave out from under her. Castiel caught her easily in his arms, shielding her from the falling debris. He put his hand on the top of her head, his face in her hair. He was comforting her in his own, awkward way.

Dean tried to get away from Sam's grip, but his baby brother held onto him tightly. "Dean, wait. Let him do this."

Dean relaxed. He could see Castiel was speaking softly to her. Becca was nodding. She glanced up, her eyes resting on Dean. Her face was dirty and she had a cut on her bottom lip.

Sam let his brother go, and Dean practically tripped over himself to run to Becca. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I haven't done anything like that in a _long_ time. And Metatron is definitely not going to be happy with me for it."

"He'll get over it."

"Yeah, when he gets back from fucking Saturn," Sam chuckled, dusting himself off.

Becca looked up at him, her eyes sad. "Oh Dean..."

He looked terrible. There were cuts on his face and some pieces of glass in his neck and chest. His jacket was dotted with blood. He could hear his ears ringing, and he felt like he'd been hit by a train.

She reached out to him, her eyes silently asking the question.

Dean nodded and closed his eyes. Her fingertips gently touched his forehead.

And he was healed.

Finally, Becca looked around the alley, noticing the corpses scattered throughout the ruins. "What have I done…?"

"Hey, hey, eyes on me. Up here." He grabbed her chin and lifted her head up. "Becca, I'm gonna take care of you. You did what you had to do. Let's get you out of here."

She sniffled and wiped her nose. There was blood on her fingers. "Augh..."

"She's drained," Castiel told Dean. "It was too much. My apologies."

"I'm gonna get you home, sweetheart, okay?"

Becca nodded, and they slowly climbed over the rubble, hand in hand.


	22. Chapter 22

Becca showered and was resting comfortably in bed. Dean wanted to ensure her safety, although there would certainly be no angels around for quite some time. Still, Castiel drew warding sigils on the house while the Winchesters reorganized and cleaned up back at the hotel room.

Dean was wiping blood from his jacket when he felt Castiel's presence behind him. He looked up in the mirror. "Hey."

"Hello, Dean."

"How is she?"

"Just fine. She would like to see you."

Dean lifted his jacket, inspecting it for any remaining stains. "Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea right now, Cas. I'm thinking maybe you ought to stay with her." He brushed by the angel as he went over to hang up the garment to dry.

Castiel was right on his heels. "Why? This is fate, Dean."

"Fate? This is supposed to happen?"

The angel nodded. "Of course. Her story is with you."

"Then…" He sighed. "Why does it hurt so badly sometimes? Why is it so hard?"

"Because it is worth it."

Dean shook his head. "This is too fast, Cas. I'm not sure if I'm okay with this."

"You know destiny can't be changed, Dean. You're the one who took the shortcut that day, remember? All roads lead to the same destination. I guess some roads are shorter than others."

There was a pause.

"You deserve this. You know you do." Castiel gave him a pointed look.

His dreams.

"Do I?"

"More than you will ever realize. And that is what makes you deserve it even more. Remember, Rebecca is waiting for you." Castiel stepped back to take his leave. "Oh, and Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't…fuck?... this up, okay? You've earned this."

Dean couldn't help but laugh as Castiel disappeared from the hotel room.

* * *

As he climbed the staircase, Dean could hear the guitar riffs of "Revival" from the Allman Brothers coming out from behind her door.

He gave a little knock.

"Come in."

He stuck his head in and smiled. "Hey."

"Dean." Those blue eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but she was thrilled to see him, as usual. She was sitting up in bed, reading. She patted a spot beside her. "I need you close. Is that okay?"

"Definitely." He lay down beside her. Becca put an arm across him, holding him against her, her other hand holding the book.

God he was so comfortable with her.

_People can you feel it?  
Love is everywhere._

"You doin' all right? You need anything?"

"I'm fine. Thanks." Her eyes never left the book.

Becca wasn't in the talking mood, and that was fine by him. He snuggled down closer to her, his head resting just below her breasts. He let his eyes close when she began stroking his hair.

He slept all night.

He woke up to Becca talking on the phone.

"Well, it's actually a new development in my life," she was laughing. Dean wondered what she was talking about. "No, I don't really have a repertoire or anything like that. The songs just…kind of come to me, I guess."

Ah, her singing.

"I would love to do that for her, of course! Let me check and see about my schedule. Can I call you back at this number? Great. Thanks a lot." Becca shut her phone and looked down at him.

"What's up?"

"I have a colleague who has a friend that is doing a piano concert with the orchestra at symphony hall. Like, in a few weeks? Next month or something?" Becca told Dean. "She wants me to sing maybe like 4 or 5 songs to open the performance." She grabbed the book off her night stand.

"That's really cool."

"I think I need to talk to Castiel about it first though. I know that an angel's voice can sometimes….you know….fuck things up. You guys heard me sing, but I don't know if you're special or what. I'm kind of confused by the whole thing, so I'd feel better if I talked to him before I said yes."

"Sounds like a good idea." Dean closed his eyes again as Becca began to run her fingers through his hair. "Read to me what you're reading."

Becca laughed. "It's Sylvia Plath."

"Who?"

"Nevermind." Becca read the last few lines.

_Herr God, Herr Lucifer  
Beware Beware. _  
_Out of the ash  
I rise with my red hair  
And I eat men like air._

"What's that called?"

"_Lady Lazarus_."

Dean was quiet and thoughtful for a moment. Those words hit him rather hard.

"That bitch was crazy." He chuckled.

"That bitch was fucking brilliant."

"So if you sing, will you let me come?"

"I hope you'll come. Let's rest, okay? Last night was too weird for me."

* * *

"I cannot believe this many people came to hear an angel sing. Well, actually, I think I can," Castiel shut the car door. They all adjusted their ties one last time, making sure they looked presentable.

"It's kind of weird to legitimately dress nice. At least it's not a bowtie," Sam commented with a laugh. "I don't need my FBI badge, do I?"

"I think you're good, Sammy."

The little symphony hall was packed. Becca had given their names to someone at the box office so they had reserved seats right in the middle.

Castiel was like a kid in a candy store, practically bouncing in his seat.

"Cas, would you _please_ be still?"

Sam snorted and began to laugh, but Castiel quickly silenced him with a hand over his mouth.

The entire hall got quiet as Becca stepped out onto the stage, wearing an electric purple satin, strapless gown with a pick-up skirt. Her feet were bare. Her hair was swept to the side and curled around her face. The way the light shined on her from behind made it look like a golden halo around her head. She stepped up to the microphone that was positioned front and center on the stage. "Hi, welcome. Please…take off your shoes and make yourselves at home." She looked out at the audience with a nervous little smile. "Thank you." She glanced over at the conductor and gave a slight nod.

The orchestra began to play "Pie Jesu."

Castiel sighed. He reached over and squeezed Dean's hand. Dean looked over at him. Tears were streaming down the angel's cheeks.

After that, she sang "Somewhere over the Rainbow" then "Ave Maria." She had tears in her eyes as she sang, her eyes cast heavenward, singing to the Holy Mother.

Castiel cried the entire performance.

"This is my last song. It's by one of my favorite female singers. I never understood the song much until recently. I'd like to dedicate it to someone very special."

That peaceful grin.

"You're so beautiful with an edge and a charm, but so careful when I'm in your arms…"

She was singing just for him, a soft smile on her face. Her hips and shoulders swayed sensually along with the music. Only Becca could make a feminist's emotional ballad sexy.

Dean felt like he was going to pass out. He wiped his eyes with a deep breath.

"So much light," he heard Castiel whisper. "So much love."


	23. Chapter 23

_The suspense! The drama!_

* * *

Becca stood out in the lobby after the concert, doing a surprisingly good job of holding court. She was polite and spoke to everyone that approached her. Castiel, Sam, and Dean stood off to the side against a wall, waiting patiently.

Castiel pulled something out of his trench coat like a magician. It was a bouquet of delicate ox-eye daisies.

"Her favorite. Here." He handed them to Dean. "Go."

Dean looked at him gratefully. Castiel was, without a doubt, his guardian angel and soul mate.

He slowly made his way through the crowd to where Becca was standing. She was speaking with an elderly woman.

"Dean! Hi!" She was glowing in that purple dress, and her cheeks were pink from excitement. She reached out and tugged at his tie. "You look gorgeous!"

"So do you, sweetheart." Dean plucked one of the daisies from the bouquet and put it in her hair, handing her the rest. She graciously accepted the flowers, wrapping an arm around him.

"Thank you so much! Dean, this is Virginia. Ginny, this is Dean. He's…"

"Her biggest fan," Dean finished, flashing his most charming grin. "It's nice to meet you."

Ginny smiled, utterly captivated by him. "You're without a doubt the handsomest man in this room."

Dean couldn't help but blush. "Why, thank you – "

Becca pulled him down to her before he could finish his sentence.

"Get me out of here, Dean," she whispered. Her blue eyes were full of fear. "Please. Something's not right."

Dean looked up and scanned the crowd as he grabbed her arm.

"Excuse us." He gave Ginny a polite nod.

He kept a protective hand on the small of her back as they weaved through the crowd of people towards Sam and Castiel.

"Rebecca!"

"Awesome job, Becca," Sam touched her shoulder gently.

"We're leaving now," Dean told them.

Sam gave him a confused look. "What? Why? There are people still here, Dean..."

"I said _now_."

They stepped out the back exit into the chilly night air. Dean removed his dress jacket and put it on Becca. It swallowed her, but she accepted it gratefully and grabbed his hand.

They were almost to the car when they felt a gust of wind.

It was too late.

The parking garage lit up with a bright white light.

"Dammit," Dean swore under his breath. He pulled Becca behind his back, stepping in front of her. "You stay here, got it? Behind me."

She nodded, gripping the bottom hem of his shirt tightly.

Metatron stepped forward. There were a few others with him. They were all dressed impeccably in suits.

"Well, if it ain't the heavenly mafia…"

"You're so not funny, Dean," Sam muttered.

"Bravo, Yofiel." Metatron told her, clapping slowly. "What a performance. I'd forgotten how good you were. The stories just don't do you justice, you know."

"What do you want?" Dean questioned, keeping his arm protectively out in front Becca.

"You know what I came for," the angel replied.

"Aren't you a little old for a pretty young thing like Becca?"

Metatron frowned. "Don't, Dean. I haven't the patience for your smart mouth. You know how long it took us to get back after this bitch banished us?"

"I have an idea." Castiel let out a gravelly snicker.

"You watch your mouth!" Dean yelled at Metatron.

"You're a possessive one, aren't you, Dean Winchester?" The Scribe looked at his former companion. "Nice jacket."

Dean let out an arrogant chuckle. "You like that, don't ya?"

"Oh very much," the Scribe's tone practically dripped with sarcasm. "You've made your point."

Becca had yet to speak. She just stood there in the dress jacket and ball gown. The flowers were clutched in her fist as she quietly watched Metatron pitch his fit.

"Yofiel. Do you think that you can just start doing your thing again after YEARS of nothing from you?! You were sent here for ONE job. ONE. You have your duty. And, somehow you still have your Grace, yet you're almost completely human. The rules bend for you, don't they? They always have. Just do your job."

He eyed the Winchesters. "And this isn't any of your business!"

"She _is_ my business," Dean snapped.

She finally spoke up.

"They're my friends," Becca said softly. She was trying desperately to keep her anger in check.

"Your what?"

"They're my friends," Becca repeated a little louder.

"You don't have anyone. Why do you think your family is on the other side of the country? You don't need anyone, Yofiel."

She shook her head. "Things are different now. I'm different. This isn't any of _your_ business. I'd like for you to leave."

"And don't come back here again," Castiel added.

Sam rubbed his temples. This shit was a total headache.

It was like a bad rumble from _The Outsiders_.

Or a turf war from _West Side Story_.

"Well, I'm not leaving without what I came for." Metatron lifted his head as his wings cast a shadow across the walls of the parking garage. The angels that accompanied him stepped back respectfully. They kept their gaze on Castiel and the Winchesters.

Becca sighed with exasperation. "Seriously?" She dropped the flowers on the ground.

Dean felt her hand let go of his shirt. "Becca...BEHIND ME! Dammit! Do you ever listen?"

She silently walked towards Metatron and began to glow. Her wings blossomed from her shoulder blades, the dark shadow of them cutting across the cars and nearly up to the ceiling.

The Divine Beauty. Sam had to shield his eyes. She was breathtaking.

"I can't let you do this," Becca told him. "I don't want any trouble."

"I'm not here to start trouble, Jophiel. There's enough of that going on already. I'm trying to end it."

"Then let me have Salem. It is my home. I love them, Enoch. And more importantly, I love _him_." She gestured back to Dean.

Metatron wings vanished, but he didn't move. Becca stood her ground.

"Castiel," she called over her shoulder.

"I'm on it, Rebecca." Castiel pulled a box cutter from his pocket and rolled up his sleeve.

"Now go, or I'll have Castiel send you back again. And I'll go, too. I don't care. I want you _gone_."

Dean prayed that Becca was bluffing and Metatron wouldn't let Castiel go through with the banishment. He would lose her for sure. But Metatron was enough of an asshole to let that happen.

Castiel cut himself to begin the sigil. Blood slowly dripped from his arm.

"Fine! Fine." Metatron held up his hands defensively. His face softened. He reached for the daisy in Becca's hair. "May I?"

She lifted her chin. Her jaw was set. "You may not."

He nodded and stepped away from her. "It was good to hear you sing. Goodbye, Yofiel."

"My name is Dr. Rebecca Nourse," She told him, tears streaming down her cheeks. "And I worked hard for it."

Becca exhaled, her wings disappearing. She hung her head, breathing heavily, her shoulders slumped. She shot Dean a side-glance.

God damn, she was a badass. Dean never would've thought she had it in her.

She was vulnerable for a mere second. But that was all it took. Metatron seized the opportunity and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back up against him.

"Rebecca!"

It happened so fast. Her throat was cut before they could stop him.

Metatron pulled a bottle from his pocket and held it to her neck. A glowing fog drifted from the wound and into the vial.

Her Grace.

He let her drop to the pavement like a rag doll, her neck bleeding profusely.

"I got what I came here for. This chapter, and her story, are over." He calmly regarded Castiel. "I'll be back to deal with you."

And with that, the Scribe and the other angels were gone.

Dean ran to her and put a hand behind her head. "Oh Rebecca..."

She was dying right before his eyes. And he was utterly helpless to stop it.

"Cas, do something!" Sam screamed.

She sputtered, gasping for air. The sound was sickening.

"Stay with me, Becca, sweetheart…" There was blood everywhere.

Castiel squatted down, reaching for Becca.

"Get back, dammit. Don't touch her." Dean's voice was almost a hiss as he wildly cradled her closer to him. Blood seeped into his white dress shirt and covered his hands. His tears fell into her hair as he cried openly.

For her.

And for Mary Ruth. That sweet little flower love child that they would never create together.

It was all slipping away from him, just like it always did.

"Dean, think." Sam reached out and touched his brother on the shoulder. "Let Cas help her."

He nodded, swallowing the bile that had risen up in to his throat. He released Becca just a little so Castiel could access the deep wound across her neck.

The angel gently brushed his hand across Becca's throat, and it all disappeared. She took in a grateful gulp of air.

Dean closed his eyes with a sigh. "Thank you." He lifted her into his arms as he stood. "Let's get her home."


	24. Chapter 24

Becca stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. She went over to the mirror and wiped the steam away.

She gazed at her reflection, narrowing her eyes.

She'd been someone else for 30 years. What would it be like without Yofiel?

"You okay in there?" Dean called from the bedroom.

"I'm fine." Becca raised her chin, inspecting her neck. And found nothing.

She came out of the bathroom, walking right to the dresser.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, watching her.

"You good?"

Becca turned and looked at him. "Yeah." That sweet smile was strained.

"You're not fooling me, Dr. Nourse. Sit."

She sat down beside him with a sigh.

"It's just…I'm just me now. No more Grace."

"I know."

Dean regarded her closely. She still looked pretty much the same. Her voice was different, reminiscent of the night she'd been possessed by the demon. When she was herself for just a brief moment. When they'd confessed their love for each other. The part of her that loved him was Rebecca, not Yofiel. And that was the part of her that he loved.

Her eyes searched his. "Please say something."

"The night you were possessed...I wanted you to stay longer. You left so soon."

"Oh Dean," a tear slid down her cheek, but he reached out and wiped it away.

Castiel's words echoed in his mind.

_Remember, Rebecca is waiting for you._

Yofiel wasn't his fate. Becca was.

And Cas had known all along. That sneaky bastard.

"I missed you. I've been waiting for you, Rebecca."

She let him undress her. It felt like her first time all over again.

Dean pulled her down on top of him.

"I love showing you all of this…" he grinned against her lips.

"Dean." She shifted, trying to find relief. She could feel herself stretching to accommodate him. Finally, she gave up.

"Just do whatever feels good, sweetheart. You can't mess this up…"

Becca put her hands on Dean's chest, moving against him flawlessly. He gripped her hips, helping her set a rhythm, his eyes never leaving hers. She looked amazing over him, blonde hair messy and lips slightly parted with pleasure.

When he couldn't take anymore, Dean rolled her underneath him.

Becca reached up and put her palm against his cheek. "I missed you. I love you," she whispered.

"I love you." He'd almost lost her tonight. His face was in her hair, breathing in her scent, then kissing and sucking her breasts, leaving deep pink blotches on her skin. He was buried deep inside of her…he was everywhere, frantically all over her. He couldn't get enough.

Dean dreamed of Mary Ruth that night. That he came in through the front door and she'd toddled over to him, barefoot. He lifted her up into his arms, covering her with kisses. She smelled like lavender baby wash. Wearing a tie-dyed dress and an amber teething necklace around her neck. Her hair was dirty blonde. With those big, hazel eyes that matched his.

* * *

The next morning, Becca was alone. There was a note on her bedside table.

_B –  
Don't be mad. We had to go. And I think you need some time. We all do.  
Cas is only just a prayer away.  
I'll call you ASAP. Love you.  
- D_

* * *

Becca didn't hear from him for months. She did not pray for Castiel to come.

The seasons changed.

She got to know herself for the first time. And she was truly happy.

And when the time was right, they would all come back into her life.

* * *

The phone on Becca's desk rang.

"Hey, sweetheart," Dean's voice greeted her warmly. "How's my favorite hippie librarian?"

Becca sat back in her chair with a happy sigh. It was like she was hearing his voice for the first time. "Good. And you?"

"Just fine. You ready for Christmas?"

"Oh, are you guys going to come?"

"I hope so. Cas is gonna come, too."

"So do you want me to go ahead and get a tree or…?"

"I want to go cut a tree with you. Is that okay?"

"Absolutely! I won't do anything Christmasy until you guys get here."

They awkwardly said their goodbyes, and she hung up the receiver. Becca rubbed her face with her hands, letting out a long breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding in.

* * *

Becca was sitting on the steps of the porch when the Impala pulled into the driveway. She stood up, shoving her hands into the pockets of her winter coat.

"She still has a light," Castiel observed as they approached.

"Hey, sweetheart!" Dean gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Hey guys! You lovin' this weather or what?"

"Or what," Sam replied, pulling her into his arms for a hug. "Get over here you crazy Yankee."

"Come on, I've got chili inside."

Dean shot Sam a look as they headed up the steps. "Just what you need, Sammy."

* * *

Becca was in the parlor reading when she felt Castiel sit down beside her.

"So..."

She put her book down. "Still friends?"

"Of course."

There was a pause.

"Can you still sing?"

Becca opened her mouth, and a heavenly tune came out.

Castiel sighed with relief. "She let you keep it. I'm so glad."

"Me too." Becca sat up, putting her arms around him. "Castiel, thank you for being there for me. You're so special."

He simply nodded, holding her tight.

"I'm gonna go find Sam, okay? I think I should talk to him."

He nodded again. She hugged him once more before leaving the room.

* * *

She found Sam outside, lying in the snow.

"What are you doing?" Becca couldn't help but laugh. "You're gonna freeze your ass off."

"I thought about making a snowman, but then I kind of ended up here." He sat up and looked at her. "What's up?"

She went over to him and pulled something out of her pocket. "I was given this when I was in Italy. It's for you. It's like the one I wear. And Dean has the medal, too. I never got a chance to give you yours. It was blessed by the Pope for you. Will you have it?"

"Of course." He held out his hand.

Becca placed the necklace in Sam's open palm.

"St. Benedict. Nice." He smiled at her, truly touched. "Thanks, Becca."

He grabbed her arm, pulling her down beside him. They lay back into the snow.

"I wanted to ask you...when you exorcised me... You read from that book. Why'd you do that? You guys know all that stuff by heart."

"I had to get it right. There was no room for error. Not with you." He squeezed her hand.

"Thanks, Sam."

Sam looked over at her. "So no more halo, huh?"

"I guess not."

"You know, you were everything I thought an angel would be. Different from the other ones. Do you remember anything?"

"I remember everything."

"Even Dean?"

"Especially Dean."

"How do you feel?"

"Really good, actually."

"And what about Dean?"

She shrugged.

"What about Cas?"

"He seems so disappointed. I feel like I hurt him."

"Give him time. Metatron wants his Grace …so there's that weighing on him too."

"What about you? I mean, are we still friends?"

"Oh my god, absolutely! Why wouldn't we be? I love your brownies."

Becca rolled over, gathering up snow and covering him with it. Sam wrestled her down until she was pinned beneath him. He shoved a palm full of snow in her face.

"You think you're tough now?" His smile was wicked.

She smacked him in the head with a snowball in her free hand. "I don't think, I _know_!" She stood up and began making another ball.

"Shit! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Sam made a run for it as Becca chased him across the yard.


	25. Chapter 25

Becca and Castiel trudged through the snow, following behind Dean and Sam.

The brothers were arguing over which tree they should pick.

"I liked that one back there," Sam was telling Dean.

"That one was too skinny! You need a nice, full tree."

"How about this one?" Sam stopped infront of a smaller, sparse tree.

"What are you? Charlie Brown? Keep moving."

"You're such an asshat."

Castiel and Becca looked at each other.

"It's just a tree," Castiel muttered.

"It's just a tree," Sam mocked.

Becca threaded her arm through Castiel's, and they continued along through the rows of Christmas trees.

Finally, the group stopped in front of a beautiful Douglas fir.

"Oh, Dean, this is gorgeous," Becca told him. "This one gets my vote."

Dean looked at his brother. "Sammy?"

Sam nodded. "I think it'll fit infront of the parlor window just fine." He glanced at Becca with a soft smile.

"Cas?"

Castiel shrugged. "It is not of import."

"I'll take that as a yes." Dean chuckled, squatting down. He began to saw the tree trunk.

Sam and Dean took turns until the tree was cut down.

"Timber!" Dean yelled as the tree fell over. Sam caught it.

"What do we do now?" Castiel wanted to know.

"We have to get it home. Then we decorate it," Becca answered.

The four crammed into her Honda. Somehow, having the tree tied to the roof made them feel more cramped in the vehicle.

But they didn't care. Becca turned up her radio, and they sang Christmas carols the entire way home.

* * *

"Get over here," Becca told Castiel. She handed him the angel topper. "Put this on the top of the tree."

"How does this gauche decoration celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ?"

"It doesn't. But it brings people together. It's about love, Castiel."

Giving a shrug, Castiel reached up and put the angel on the tree.

Becca brought her hands up to her mouth. "It's beautiful, you guys."

They all stepped back to inspect the tree. It was covered in white lights and ornaments in various shades of purple. They'd gone all out, putting candy canes and tinsel on the tree as well. It was a fabulous, tacky Martha Stewart atrocity. And it was perfect.

Dean came up behind her, arms slipping around her waist. He pulled her up against him, his lips in her ear. "Got any mistletoe?"

"Maybe later. It's time for presents!" Becca went over to the Christmas tree and grabbed three wrapped gifts.

"For my three wise men," she joked, handing their presents to them.

They all looked at Castiel expectantly. He was drinking yet another glass of eggnog.

"Put that down, and open your gift," Dean told him.

Castiel shot him a look and set his glass down. He had a nog mustache. "Well. I suppose I'll open mine first." He delicately pulled back a piece of tape.

"We're gonna be here all night." Sam rolled his eyes.

Inside there was a necktie, a Rubik's Cube, a yo-yo, and a gift card to Five Guys.

"Five Guys?"

"Burgers!" Dean laughed. "You take this to the restaurant, and you use it like cash to buy the burgers." That was the best explanation he could think of.

"Oh! This makes me very happy, Rebecca. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Who's next?"

Sam ripped his gift open without hesitation. "Headphones!" He read the box. "Damn, they cancel out noise?! This is perfect, thanks! Your turn, Dean."

"Last but not least." Dean unwrapped his gift. It was an old school shaving kit. "Now this is awesome. Thank you, Becca." He winked at her.

Sam immediately hopped up. "Now for you!" He went over to the tree and grabbed a gift bag. "To you from me."

It was a fleece purple Snuggie. "Thank you, Sam!" She gave him a hug. "I'm going to wear this right now." She removed it from the packaging and stuck her arms into it, laughing happily. "I've always wanted one of these."

Castiel handed her an awkwardly wrapped present. "I got you this one."

Becca managed to find a weak area not covered in tape, and tore it open. It was a Grateful Dead bear. "Oh this is great!"

"It is a companion for your other bear." He was very serious.

"I see that. Thank you, Castiel."

"You are welcome, Rebecca." He poured himself some more eggnog.

There was nothing left under the tree. Becca honestly wasn't expecting any gifts from them at all, so it didn't bother her that Dean didn't seem to have anything.

He rubbed the nape of his neck, his face serious. "Well…"

Then he smiled, reaching into his jacket pocket. He handed a box to her. "For you."

Becca recognized the blue and the perfect white bow immediately. She looked up at him.

Dean had gone into the depths of what few authentic savings and checking accounts he'd ever had in his life. Somehow, he managed to get his hands on every penny of his personal, honest money. $200. And he'd spent it to buy Becca's Christmas present.

"Open it."

She untied the ribbon and removed the lid. Inside was the characteristic suede jewelry bag. She looked up at him again.

He was still smiling at her, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

She unsnapped the bag and pulled out an infinity bracelet. "Oh, Dean. It's beautiful. Will you put it on me?"

Dean came over to her and gently latched the bracelet for her. Then he kissed the pulse point on the inside of her wrist. His lips were against her skin, the words barely audible. "I love you." He looked up at her, the lights of the tree shining in his hazel eyes. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"You too. Thank you, Dean."

Sam sniffled and wiped at his eyes.

"Sam! You all right over there?"

"Yeah, Becca. Just…uh…something in my eye." It touched him deeply to see his brother like this. He knew what Dean had done to get the present. He never thought he'd see the day. It was probably the most honest thing Dean Winchester had ever done in his life.

They heard a snore and looked over.

Castiel was passed out in the recliner. He still had a nog mustache.

"He's nogged out!" Becca laughed. She took off her Snuggie and covered him up with it. She brushed his hair gently. "Merry Christmas, Castiel." She kissed his forehead.

Sam and Dean were rolling over Castiel and the Snuggie. They took a few pictures with their phones.

"Can you send me yours? How do you even do that?" Dean was pushing random buttons on his phone. He plopped down beside Becca, casually putting his arm up behind her on the couch.

The room got quiet.

They all looked up at each other. They were stretched out comfortably in the parlor. The Christmas tree was lit up and gorgeous. Everything seemed so perfect…and normal.

"This is really nice, you guys," Sam said quietly. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Sammy."

"I'm glad you guys could make it. I know you come when you can, and I understand that. I appreciate you coming to the same place more than once."

"This place is pretty safe," Dean shrugged. "Had a good angel lookin' out for it. Heard she's smokin' hot, too."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Well, I'm gonna turn in. Or else Santa won't come," Sam joked, standing up with a stretch. "Good night, you guys."

"Night, Sam."


	26. Chapter 26

_After this chapter, there's 27, 28, and 29. And that's all, folks!_

* * *

Becca pulled a gift bag out from underneath the bed and handed it to Dean.

"I got you one more thing," she told him.

Dean sat up. "Becca, you didn't have to."

"Oh no, I had to. You'll see."

He gave her a curious look, pulling the tissue paper out of the bag. There was a shirt inside. He pulled it out. It was a vintage filling station style, button-up mechanic's shirt. Above the pocket, there was a stitched name patch, "Dean."

"When I saw you out there under the Impala that day, I knew I had to get it for you. Do you like it?"

He was laughing. "I love it. It's great. Thank you."

"Merry Christmas, Dean." She smiled at him.

"Merry Christmas, Becca. You like your bracelet?"

"I can't believe you got me that, Dean. You know you didn't have to. I wasn't expecting anything from you guys."

"I don't usually do things like that, you know. I wanted something special for you. But you deserve much more than what I can give you."

"Don't say that, dude." Becca reached out and gently touched his arm. "I'm really happy, Dean. This is the most content I've been in a long time. We didn't get Christmas together last year, but this year I'm glad you guys could make it out here. You guys are my family."

"Does it bother you, me being gone, coming and going?"

"I don't like it one bit, if that's what you mean. But that's the nature of the beast, isn't it? I take what I can get, and I think it makes me appreciate it and cherish it even more. You're precious."

"And you're an angel, you fuckin' know that?"

Becca's voice sounded sad and distant. "That's what they say." She laid down beside him, snuggling up close.

Dean put his arms around her with a sigh. She was truly his sweetheart.

* * *

Becca made breakfast while the guys exchanged gifts with each other the next morning. Dean gave Castiel the Playboy holidays edition. The angel's eyes almost bulged out of his head. Dean was determined to get Castiel laid. Becca felt embarrassed for the poor guy. Sam and Dean got each other utility knives. They were entirely too excited about it.

Breakfast was a casserole with veggie sausage crumbles, eggs (per Sam's request), and cheese. Orange juice, coffee, eggnog, whatever alcohol there was to put in the eggnog. Becca set everything up in the formal dining room since it was a holiday.

"What's for dinner?" Castiel asked as he got a second helping.

Sam groaned. "I can't even think of that right now."

"Lunch then?"

"That's even worse!"

Becca laughed. "I have a Tofurky roast for dinner. Green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, broccoli, and a pie for dessert. I have a real turkey in the Crockpot for you guys."

"Meat _and_ pie?! It's a Christmas miracle!" Dean declared.

Castiel volunteered to help Becca with clean up. They cleared the table and headed into the kitchen to do the dishes.

"She's nothing like –"

"I'll break your damn nose."

"You know you think about it, Dean. Don't you? You have to."

"Becca's content with what we have, whatever it is. And so am I. If she's happy, then I'm happy. End of story."

"Do you think Becca's safe?"

"Of course."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Do you remember what the demon said? About having a baby?"

"I'm not going to sit here at the breakfast table on Christmas morning, discussing safe sex with my baby brother."

"Forget I brought it up. Sorry." Sam took a sip of his orange juice.

It got quiet.

"She's on the Pill," Dean told him.

"Dean, I said forget I brought it up!"

"Well I'm just sayin'…"

"Okay, well, thank you…for letting me know that."

"You're welcome."

Castiel and Becca were laughing over at the sink.

"So then Uriel said…"

Castiel leaned down and whispered something into Becca's ear. She gasped, her eyes wide, and then cracked up laughing.

"Oh Uriel…." She shook her head sadly as she dried a dish.

"I suppose Anna did what she thought she had to." Castiel shrugged a little, remembering the circumstances.

"Anna?"

Castiel turned and looked at Dean in the other room. He looked trapped.

"Uh, Anna was…a fallen angel."

"Oh I see." Becca rinsed her hands and turned off the water.

That was enough explanation for her.

Dean gave a sigh of relief. He had told Becca about the girl in the back of the Impala, but she must have forgotten the name. Did he mention that she was a fallen angel?

It didn't matter anyway.

The only woman he'd ever be taking into that Impala again would be Dr. Rebecca Nourse.

* * *

Sam and Dean were stretched out on the couch, watching the game. Castiel was in his favorite recliner, messing around with his Rubik's Cube. Becca sat on the floor in front of Dean, alternating between reading and watching the game.

Every so often, Dean would look out the window. The snow was falling gently, cloaking the entire neighborhood in a beautiful white blanket. It was really a perfect day. And a normal one, at that. Salem was actually pretty amazing. His Becca was responsible for this. He felt a twitch of pride. And love.

When she didn't move for a while, Dean knew she'd fallen asleep.

"Hey, sweetheart." He leaned down and put a hand on top of her head. "Why don't you come up here? There's plenty of room."

She gave him a sleepy smile, climbing up on the other side of Sam next to Dean.

Sam threw the Snuggie over her, giving her an affectionate pat. She cuddled down into it. "This is the best Christmas ever, you guys."

"_THIS_!" Castiel spoke up. He set the Rubik's Cube down with a frustrated groan.

Sam picked it up and twisted it a few times. "There. Now try."

Castiel went back to work on the Cube.


	27. Chapter 27

The night before they were set to leave, Dean came and sat down on the edge of the bed. He'd just gotten out of the shower, and his hair was wet and messy. He wore nothing but a white undershirt and boxers.

"I want to talk to you."

"What is it?" She was brushing her hair.

"Last time it was like 14 months…and then maybe like a week or so here and there. But this time…"

"It'll be longer," Becca finished.

"It's the business."

"I understand."

"I know I asked you to wait last time. Looking back on that, I realize it wasn't fair. You don't deserve to just be here waiting for me to randomly drop in. Especially now that you have your life back."

She laughed. "You say that like I had no life to begin with. I keep myself busy, Dean." Becca set her hairbrush down on her bedside table. She crawled over to him. "You have no idea, do you?"

"What?"

"How much you mean to me." She kissed his forehead. "You are so worth it." Her lips were against his temple. "You just don't know."

Dean closed his eyes, enjoying her being this close to him. "Cas says that we're fate."

"What do you think?"

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. "I used to not believe in all that shit, even angels and God. But now I have no idea. I guess I believe."

"I've learned that faith meets you halfway. You have to do the rest," Becca told him. "I feel like I've gotten a second chance now that I don't have to worry about protecting Salem anymore. And you got a second chance too, Dean. You were rescued for a reason. God's not done with you yet. So don't forget that, okay?"

"Do you think we're meant to be?" Dean asked her.

"I believe in free will. That's what's so great about this world. We're free to love and be whoever and whatever we choose. But there's still a part of me that believes people come into our lives because they're supposed to. They're meant to be with you. There was a reason why you stopped to help me with my lawnmower that day. And there's a reason why you came back to my doorstep after 14 months. And I believe you'll come back again. Because you're meant to."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"I told you, I have a life!" She gave his shoulder a playful shove. "I'll be fine. Maybe I'll go on a sabbatical or something. I'm ready for a vacation and a change of pace. I've been looking into the national libraries of India and Israel and their archives. I want to get out of the country for some reason. Maybe I'll teach a class at a college somewhere. Or maybe I'll take a pottery or a painting class. I keep busy, Dean. You're not worried about me, are you? All that bullshit is over."

"Metatron might come back."

Becca rolled her eyes. "I doubt it. He's probably found something else to occupy his time. Besides, I don't have what he wants anymore."

"Promise me you'll keep Cas close to you."

She nodded. "I promise. Only if you promise no postcards this time. I want love letters."

"So high maintenance!" Then his face grew serious. "What are we deciding?"

"What do _you_ want, Dean? I'd love to know what you have to say."

Dean though for a moment. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Do you really have to ask? Just talk to me."

His voice was quiet. "I want you, Rebecca."

"And you have me. For as long as you want me."

Those hazel eyes looked at her. "I want you for a _really_ long time. And I'm... scared. Jesus, that was hard to admit."

"I'm scared, too, Dean…but not with you. That's how I know this is right."

Dean's lips brushed against hers. "Come on, let's celebrate this last night together with a bang, sweetheart."

When Becca awoke the next morning, he was gone. His pillow was still warm. She pulled it close her, burying her face into it with a sigh. Finally, she got up and padded into the bathroom to get ready for work.

* * *

It was almost three months before Becca heard anything from Dean. A letter in her mailbox. Postmarked from Nebraska.

_My dearest, most beloved human Doctor Rebecca Nourse,_

_With the light of love as my guide, I shall weave my thoughts for you like a Mexican blanket on a wooden loom._

Becca laughed at his words. But as she read on, her smile faded and tears filled her eyes.

_If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you. __When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me. __Kind woman, I give you my all. Nothing more. __My love is strong. With you there is no wrong._ _An inspiration is what you are to me._ _And so today, my world it smiles. Your hand in mine, we walk the miles. __Thanks to you it will be done, for you to me are the only one. __Happiness, no more be sad. Happiness...I'm glad. _

_THANK YOU._

_Sammy says to tell you that he helped by Googling the lyrics. Whatever that means._

It was signed simply, "D."

She let out a shaky sigh and smiled, wiping her eyes.

Page and Plant.

Her phone rang well after 4 AM that night. She reached over and turned on the lamp. Her eyes adjusted as she blindly felt around for her phone on the night stand.

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweetheart. How are you?"

His voice still gave her butterflies and a warm feeling in her stomach.

"Dean." Becca sat up. "I'm great. What about you?"

"I'm okay."

"Just okay?"

"Yeah."

There was a lot of background noise. People chatting and music thumping.

"I got your letter today," she told him.

"You did?" She could hear his smile.

"I loved it. You're a total romantic. How's Sam?"

"He's fine. We're out in Arkansas. Probably gonna head to Oklahoma soon."

"Oklahoma, cool."

There was an awkward pause. Becca could hear voices and laughter in the background.

"Are you at a bar?" She asked.

He was talking to someone else.

"Dean?"

"I'm here. What's up?"

"Are you at a bar?" She repeated her question.

"Yeah. There's not much to do here." He sounded distracted.

"Listen, I'm gonna let you go…it's like 4:30 here and I have to work in a few hours."

"Becca, wait. Hold on."

Gravel crunched underneath his boots as he walked.

It got quiet.

"I miss you."

"I miss you too, Dean. Please take care. Thank you for the letter. I really love it. I'm keeping it."

"Do you still love me?" He sounded like a little boy.

"How much have you had to drink?"

"I'm not drunk, Becca. I did 2 shots with Sam. And some girl bought me a drink. It was fruity and gross, so I didn't drink it. Her number was on the napkin, but I let some other girl spit her gum out into it. I think I'm losing my game."

Becca shook her head with a laugh. "You poor thing."

"So do you?"

"You know I do."

"Have sweet dreams, okay? And listen…if you ever wanna like…you know, send me a picture…"

"You want me to text you pictures?"

"Why not? Maybe I'll send you some stuff, too. We gotta keep up in the modern age, baby!"

"I'll do that. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Rebecca." He paused. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I love you so much."

"I love you, too."


	28. Chapter 28

After Becca finished getting ready for work, she grabbed her phone. She switched on the camera and took a picture of herself. She checked it. Not too bad.

"Good morning!" she typed and sent it to Dean.

She'd just sat down at her desk and turned on her computer when her phone vibrated.

It was a picture of a much disheveled, very sexy, half asleep Dean.

"GOOD MORNING."

4 days later, Becca received a picture of the rear view mirror of the Impala. She could almost make out the Winchester brothers in the reflection. They were sticking their tongues out at her.

* * *

Turns out, Enid, Oklahoma was a succubus haven.

They played paper, rock, scissors to decide each night who would be the bait. Sam always won, although, Dean considered himself the real winner. Once the succubus came to Dean, he'd let her have her way with him up until a certain point, which he thoroughly enjoyed. Then they'd present her with her own reflection in a mirror.

Bitch couldn't help herself. The only thing she loved more than seducing a man was herself. Once trapped in the mirror, it was smashed.

They'd only run into a few complications with their system.

They felt like idiots, cleaning the stores out of their mirrors. One of the succubi was more into the slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am, and Dean didn't get the mirror until it was nearly too late. The other one was suspicious and tried to flee. She ended up meeting the other end of Sam's fist. They mirror had shattered before she could enter it. They'd ended up reciting The Angelic Salutation and then killing her.

The sun was coming up when they got back to the hotel. They'd been in town for over a week.

Sam wiped his cheek. There was dark blood on his fingertips. "Augh. I need a shower. Like really bad." He got out of the Impala, brushing the dust and glass mirror shards off of his jacket. "And why did I have to drop the mirrors?"

"Cause I didn't want 7 years bad luck." Dean plopped the duffel bag into the trunk and let it shut. "Besides, I had to be the bait. It's only fair, Sammy."

Sam just rolled his eyes. "Whatever, dude. How much longer do you think we'll have to be here?"

"Till all these bitches are fucking gone."

* * *

Becca got another letter a few weeks later.

This time Dean had written his own words. On paper ripped from a spiral notebook.

It was precious.

_Becca -_

_You asked for love letters, so here you go. I'm a man of my word. You know I can't say no to you. _

_Flowery words and emotional stuff is definitely not my strong point. I used to think it was the dumbest shit in the world. I still kind of do, actually._

_I don't have the most flawless past. I've done a lot of fucked up shit. Horrible things. I got a second chance, and still somehow continue to do a lot of fucked up shit. You know all about it. But you don't care. And so I don't worry. You don't ask me to be something that I'm not. I don't feel any pressure to be anything but myself. Isn't that what you hippies are all about? No judgment? Free to be you and me! _

_I realized that there was something special about you when I saw you on the floor at the library, reading to those kids. What book was that? It sounded sweet. I think about our first date a lot. Still can't believe you said yes. You seemed so surprised that I asked you out. And you think I don't understand? Doctor, I don't think __you__ understand. You're the best thing to ever happen to me. Knowing that you're there makes it all more meaningful and gives me a reason. _

___ Everything I've ever had has always previously belonged to someone else. __I was your first. And if I have my way, you'll never know any other man but me, sweetheart. You're the only thing in my entire fucking life that has ever been completely mine._

_I dream about us having a life together. __You're my girl. _

_Oh! Fun fact: The state flower for Oklahoma is apparently mistletoe. Go figure. WISH YOU WERE HERE. Wait, no. Mistletoe's the floral emblem. How boring._

_One more thing. Cas should be poofing in sometime soon. Poor angel misses you like hell. _

_I don't blame him._

_Love you._

_- Dean._

* * *

Castiel was sitting on Becca's front steps, playing with the yo-yo. He stood up and put it into the pocket of his coat.

He went over as she got out of the car. "Hello, Rebecca. May I help you with that?"

"Thanks, Castiel." She handed him a few grocery bags.

Becca grabbed the rest and they headed inside.

"Did you work today?"

"I did. Then I ran by the store and grabbed a few things. You wanna stay for dinner? I'm trying a new recipe."

"I'd love to, Rebecca."

Once inside, they sat the bags down on the bar in the kitchen.

"I'm gonna go change. Just make yourself at home. I'll be back."

Castiel began taking things out of the reusable grocery bags, reading the labels and inspecting ingredients.

Becca returned a few minutes later. Her hair was in a messy bun. She wore a pair of yoga capri pants and one of Dean's button up shirts with the sleeves rolled up.

"Ready to get started?" She handed him the recipe with a smile.

They made Portobello Wellington. Castiel did most of the work, and Becca made a salad.

"You did a good job following the recipe," she commented as she set the table in the dining room.

Castiel chuckled. "I've been following instructions for my entire existence."

"Good point."

They ate in mostly comfortable silence. Becca tried asking him what he'd been up to, but his responses were cryptic and vague.

"I would much rather listen to you," Castiel told her.

Becca laughed, taking a sip of her red wine. "Well…I've been trying to keep myself busy. I think I'm gonna teach a class at one of the campuses around town. A little extra money couldn't hurt, right?"

"I suppose not."

"What brings you my way, Castiel? Dean says you miss me."

"I do." His honesty was refreshing to her. "And I'd like to stay as long as you'll have me."

"Stay as long as you like."

He did that little smile. "Thank you, Rebecca."

"You're welcome. You just make yourself at home, okay?" She stood, taking their plates. "What do you want for dessert?"

"Brownies!"

"I shouldn't have asked. You're totally gonna clean me out of my stash, dude..."


	29. Chapter 29

_I'd written this story a little while ago but never did anything with it. I re-re-re-re...read it and edited it into the damn dirt.  
And then I decided to put it on here.  
So this is it. __Thanks for coming along for the ride, y'all. _

* * *

"Hey Castiel, if I gave you a letter, could you see to it that Dean gets it?" Becca asked as she cut up the brownies.

"Of course. I would be honored to do that for you, Rebecca."

"You'd just poof in and out?"

He nodded with a shrug. "More or less." He happily picked up a brownie. "I think I might like these better than burgers. And these make me feel much happier."

"I'm glad you like them." Becca grabbed one for herself. She put the rest on a plate and they went into the parlor.

She turned on Cat Stevens and they sat down on the couch.

"I think they were in Oklahoma fighting a succubus," Castiel said randomly. "Many, actually."

Becca laughed. "Sounds like something Dean would enjoy."

"Oh no, they're very dangerous," he told her seriously. "I was relieved to hear they weren't harmed." He looked around the parlor. "Do you have any games?"

"What happened to your Rubik's Cube?"

He proudly grinned. "I solved it."

"You did?! Awesome!" Becca stood up, going over to one of the built in shelves. "Let's see…" She began pulling out boxes. "Monopoly, Yahtzee…."

"Yahtzee! Let's play that one."

They played stoned Yahtzee until the clock chimed at midnight.

"Looks like it's passed my bedtime!" Becca stood up and stretched. "Glad I didn't turn into a pumpkin."

"I don't understand that reference."

"Right. Sorry. You can stay up as late as you want, no worries. I just gotta work in the morning. I'm probably not gonna go in until around 10 though. Story time is at 11 and 3, so…yeah. Oh, and I'll have that letter ready for tomorrow. I appreciate you taking it to Dean for me. I know you like the yellow bedroom with the adjoining bath. It's already made up for you. Make yourself at home."

"Of course. Thank you for your hospitality, Rebecca."

"Anytime, Castiel. Goodnight." She ruffled his hair and headed up the stairs.

Castiel put the game away and headed upstairs to the yellow bedroom. He took a long, hot shower before crawling underneath the lavender scented covers and blankets.

He wondered if this is what having a sister was like.

* * *

Dean was trying to unfreeze Sam's laptop when he heard someone behind him.

"Hey, Cas," he said without looking up.

"I come with mail for you, Dean."

Dean looked over his shoulder. "What?"

"Here." Castiel handed him an envelope. And a novel. There were a bunch of tabs sticking out of the pages and the spine was very worn.

"Thanks," Dean took them and set both down on the table. "What's up?"

The angel shrugged. "Becca is at work right now. Something about story times. So I thought I would entertain myself."

"Don't want you getting into any trouble."

"Right."

Sam came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He was still wet from his shower. "Woah, Cas, hi."

"Hello, Sam."

Sam closed his eyes and cringed a little. "Uh…Cas? Could you…not stare at me?"

"Sorry." Castiel stood up. "I should go, actually. I think I might take a nap before Becca gets home."

"You guys sound like an old married couple," Sam chuckled, pulling on a shirt.

"We are more like siblings."

Dean was still typing away on the computer, trying to fix it. "Tell her I said hello."

"I will. I'll tell her you both look well. Especially you, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Cas."

And then he was gone.

Dean finally turned the laptop off manually. While waiting for it to restart, he ripped the envelope open. It was a letter from his Rebecca. Big, round handwriting on custom, super official looking library stationary.

Dean's brow furrowed thoughtfully as his hazel eyes scanned the page.

"Oh, sweetheart..." He smiled, laugh lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. He ran a hand down his face, shaking his head in disbelief.

Sam sat down on the other bed, watching his brother.

A man who could kill a person with his bare hands. And spent 40 years in Hell. Who never missed his intended target with his Colt and always brought extra bullets. The best hunter there was. A master at lock picking, hot-wiring cars, and impersonating an officer of the law. Who could torture someone endlessly...and like it.

And who was shedding tears over a handwritten letter from the woman he loved.

_Dean,_

_I hope you don't mind Castiel bringing you this. I wanted to reply to you, so I figured having him poof it over wasn't such a bad idea. I won't make a habit out of it, don't worry. But it does save a stamp, doesn't it?_

_The book I was reading that day at the library is called "Blueberry Girl" by Neil Gaiman. He is an amazing author. My favorite, actually. I'm lending you my favorite book (which is by him), called "American Gods". It's well-loved, if you couldn't tell. I think you'll enjoy it. It really makes you think about things. If you read it, let me know. There will be a quiz later. But no pressure, of course!_

_Teaching a class as an adjunct. Introduction to Archives! Oh boy!_

_Now I'm going to get all flowery with you. Thank you for taking my "change" in stride. I miss you. I miss how you smell. I miss your laugh, your __everything__. I love waking up next to you. I belong there, you know that? You do, too. And I can't wait until you're there again. _

_What you've done in your past? The things you do? You're exactly right. I don't care about any of that. Because I see you. You're the most incredible man I've ever known, Dean Winchester. It's an honor to be your girl. __Don't ever forget it._

_Tell Sam I said hello and that I miss him! _

_I'll be here waiting for you. Give yourself a big hug and a sloppy kiss for me._

_I love you._

_Yours. Always._

_Rebecca_

_P.S: I dream of our life together, too. Her name is Mary Ruth, after your mother. _

_She has your eyes. _

_And she's absolutely perfect._


	30. Trivia & Playlist (Just for fun, y'all!)

Just for fun…!

The story title is taken from "Fool in the Rain" by Led Zeppelin. Wicked beat provided by Bonzo and the song has a great little twist ("Just a fool waitin' on the wrong block"). Dude's frustrated and second-guessing his girl, but it turns out, he's waiting in the wrong spot. Poor guy.

The shirt Becca is wearing is "Peace Train" by Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam)

In the study, "Seven" by Dave Matthews Band, "Black Dog" by Led Zeppelin, and "Raspberry Beret" by Prince plays on the iPod. They only add to Dean's hilarious sexual frustration.

"Corduroy" by Pearl Jam is playing in the study the night Becca gets possessed by the demon

"What we have in mind is breakfast in bed for 400,000!" – quote from Wavy Gravy at Woodstock.

The character of Becca was inspired by Chloe from Celtic Woman. The songs that Becca sings at the piano recital (and to Castiel) are actual songs performed by Chloe and Celtic Woman. Except for "Building a Mystery," the final song she dedicates to Dean.

The lyrics Dean writes in the letter to Becca are "Thank You" by Led Zeppelin.

* * *

Playlist

I actually kept track of the shit I listened to while writing and editing the story. However, I lost count of how many Heinekens I drank. What a pity.

Anyway, music makes me _very_ excited so please PM me and we can nerd out together.

"My Way"  
"when canyons ruled the city"  
"hot girls in good moods"  
"Sober"  
– Butch Walker (fellow Georgian like myself! Represent!)

"Building a Mystery" – Sarah McLachlan

Tons of Amanda Palmer and Dresden Dolls

"Don't Say Oh Well"  
"Spun"  
"Ways to Go"  
"Itchin' on a Photograph"  
"Colours"  
– Grouplove

"Seven"  
"Tripping Billies"  
"Dancing Nancies"  
"Mercy"  
"#41"  
"Satellite"  
"Old Dirt Hill (Bring that Beat Back)"  
"The Space Between"  
– Dave Matthews Band

"DONTTRUSTME" – 3OH!3

"Breezeblocks" – alt-J

"Lover's Eyes"  
"Babel"  
"Sigh No More"  
"Timshel"  
"Dust Bowl Dance"  
"Awake My Soul"  
& heaps more from Mumford and Sons

Tons of chill-worthy Grateful Dead

"In the Next Room" – Neon Trees

"Gold on the Ceiling" – The Black Keys

"Belt Loops"  
"Completely Replaceable"  
– The Films

And almost everything by Kings of Leon (dirty South, baby!) But here's just a few –  
"Slow Night, So Long"  
"Holy Roller Novocaine"  
"Notion"  
"Birthday"  
"Crawl"  
"Cold Desert"  
"Pyro"  
"Supersoaker"  
"Closer"  
"Red Morning Light"  
"Revelry"  
"Manhattan"


End file.
